


Doubt Thou the Stars Are Fire

by linatrinch



Series: Hamlet [1]
Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bodyguard, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Bodyguard!Finn, M/M, Prince!Poe, Slow Burn, There Will Be Smut Eventually I Promise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-01
Updated: 2016-06-14
Packaged: 2018-05-17 14:24:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 30
Words: 100,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5873950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/linatrinch/pseuds/linatrinch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After an attack on Prince Poe Dameron's life, he is swiftly appointed a bodyguard to ensure his safety whether he appreciates the sentiment or not. Finn, still a new member to The Royal Guard, just wants to protect people. Slowly, awkwardly, defiantly, a bond grows between the two men that is neither professional nor ethical and makes the threats on the Prince’s life that much more horrifying. </p><p>Or the royalty/bodyguard/modern AU fic that no one asked for but we all deserved.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“ _I don't need a bodyguard.”_

Finn heard Poe's muffled voice on the other side of the door, and he tried damn hard to not roll his eyes in front of his superiors.

Their little incident unsurprisingly wound up on every international news station Finn knew of. As a matter of fact, the muted TV bolted into the wall on the far side of the room was replaying footage of last night as he stood at attention in front of the door. Without his permission, his eyes kept glancing to the TV showing a picture of what was left of a once luxurious hotel with the ticker at the bottom reminding them all _'Assassination Attempt Foiled'_ and _'Crown Prince Poe Dameron Escapes Unharmed'_ and the ever present _'Bombers Still At Large.'_ Finn wanted to groan and hit his head against the door until Poe realized he should maybe get his head out of his ass for two seconds.

“ _I have like a whole damn entourage. I don't need a bodyguard.”_

Despite everything, Finn desperately wanted to enter the other room, sit Poe down, and calmly explain to him and whoever the hell he's talking to all the reasons that the prince should have had a bodyguard _years_ ago _._ As it were, the evidence was currently being broadcast worldwide.

The only reason Poe was alive enough to grumble right now was Finn's luck of being in the right place at the right time. He had been excited when this stupid government job finally paid off to put him on guard detail, secretly ecstatic at seeing the members of the royal family in person, but it never really happened that way since he was still technically just a scrub. Unfortunately (or maybe very fortunately considering the circumstances), Poe was a complete idiot and sneaked away from whatever mundane duties he was there in that particular hotel to complete. Though with him being a scrub and Poe keeping his image to himself, Finn had no idea who walked pass him at the same moment the hotel shook, nor who he quickly pulled close and ushered to safety when the gunshots began to ring out. Just that it was some unarmed guy who looked just as panicked as Finn felt.

It was only when they both broke into the stairwell, trying to scramble their way to the bottom and coming upon a very locked steel door, when the question of identities came up.

“ _Wait, who are you? How do I know you aren't the one blowing shit up?”_

_Finn grunted against the door as his shoulder rammed into it the third time. “I'm with The Royal Guard. I'm supposed to be here protecting the Crown. Considering they decided to bring a damn army with them-”_

“ _The Royal- Are you serious? You were three floors below your objective!”_

“ _You think I picked that spot!? I'm new, all right? They threw me there. Something about not questioning orders and-” Finn froze, turning to face this man who, he reminded himself, was a total stranger. “How did you know where the royal family was?”_

_Poe looked somewhere between shocked, tired, and exasperated. “I'm the Prince, you dipshit!”_

_Finn stared at him, immediately wanting to call the bluff, yet somehow just looked into his eyes and knew it was true. Well, hell. “You're-... Why were you walking around alone!?”_

“ _I snuck out.”_

“ _Snuck out!?”_

“ _That's not the point-”_

“ _Are you an idiot!?”_

“ _THAT'S NOT THE- Why didn't you recognize me?”_

“ _I never saw you before in my life!”_

“ _You're part of the goddamn guard! You're going to try and tell me that my fucking face isn't plastered on every bathroom mirror in your damn-”_

“ _I told you, I'm new! You want to criticize the guard, then write a fucking letter!”_

_Whatever Poe had been about the say next was drowned out by the sound of an explosion a few floors above them, blowing open the doors to the stairwell they were currently in. Finally the Prince was motivated to help, and their door fell open just before gunfire rained down on them from above._

All in all, it wasn't too fun of a memory. Sure, the elation of both of them escaping the hotel with nothing but each other to rely on was pretty amazing, but the bullet wound Finn still felt in his left bicep begged to differ. Still, he wore the wound proudly. Poe didn't know it, but he got it when he saw one of the enemies before the Prince did. If it hadn't been his arm, it would have been the other man's life. Well worth it.

He hadn't seen Poe since the night before and almost assumed that he just wouldn't be seeing the man again what with all the commotion going on. Once they were all _very_ safely back on palace grounds, Finn had been called in to a debriefing and from there was told to wait here for an audience with the Queen, Poe's aunt. It was more than he initially expected, honestly, but he was looking forward to a nice handshake and maybe even a medal or two. And why not? Maybe he'll even get a damn pay raise.

Poe's irritated voice on the other side of the door when he first placed himself there was, somehow, not surprising at all. And, at this point, Finn would know that voice anywhere.

He glanced to the TV again, brow furrowed, and allowed himself a heavy sigh. None of the assailants were captured alive, most of them escaping. The first blast came from Poe's own room, where he should have been if he wasn't being a rebellious little shit. As such, quite a few members of the guard were quickly eradicated. However, the people leading this needless attack were also cut down, some regretfully by Finn's own pistol as they were trying to get away. But everything was done too well. Even with the bomb fragments, even with the bodies, no one really knew who caused this.

Whoever it was knew where Poe was staying, though, and that did little to settle Finn's stomach. No one knew except for-

“ _Bring him in.”_

That definitely wasn't Poe's voice. It was a woman's, someone older, perhaps even the Queen or- One of Finn's superiors patted him on the shoulder and nodded to the door. Oh. Oh, okay. She must have meant him.

He took another deep breath, swallowed the sudden onslaught of nerves, and entered the room. Finn had the full intention of going in with eyes front, shoulders back, looking every bit the part of a strong asset to the Royal Guard. And maybe it started out that way, but when Poe's eyes landed on him, the rest of the room dissolved, especially when the damn Prince was running over to him. “Finn!”

He broke into a grin, clasping Poe on the back as they basically collided into a hug, before pulling away and looking each other over. Of course, Finn knew that Poe was completely unharmed. First of all, he made damn sure he was and, secondly, he couldn't stop asking every other second once they had been separated. The head of the guard, an actual knight, told him personally that the prince was okay.

Apparently, Poe didn't get that same luxury. “Are you all right? They just kept telling me that you were alive, that I'd see you soon enough. I swear, they smuggled me around like I'm the freaking _King_.”

“Or the Prince,” Finn chuckled, then shrugged his hurt arm. “Just that one gun shot, and that was just a graze. Looked way worse than it was.”

“Good,” Poe clapped him on his uninjured shoulder, an impossibly large smile splitting his face. “Good...,” the Prince bit his lip, before suddenly turning serious. “Look, Finn. I didn't get to thank you back there... Seriously-”

Finn shook his head, desperate to stop him for some reason, feeling undeserving of the praise because- “I was just doing my job.”

Poe smirked, tilting his head. “You didn't know who I was, remember?”

Oh. Well. That felt almost less deserving, though, didn't it?

Someone cleared their voice before Finn could counter that. He looked pass Poe, remembering where they were exactly. In the palace, in one of the more lavish seating areas on the first floor, a room that Finn had never been in. The person with them, though, he immediately knew. Everyone knew her.

Coming back to himself, Finn straightened up again, almost feeling embarrassed over his exchange with Poe- er, the Prince. “Your Majesty-”

Queen Leia Organa waved a hand of dismissal, taking sure steps to approach him. After a quick inspection on Finn's part it was proven that they were the only ones in the room. “So you're Finn. I don't think I need to tell you how much the crown is indebted to you for saving my nephew's life.”

And now he was tongue tied. It _was_ his job, but Finn would have helped the guy no matter what. It just added that much more drama to the fact that he happened to be guarding their target. He finally settled on, “Thank you, your Majesty.” He could argue with Poe about it later, crown Prince or no, but he couldn't go and argue with the Queen.

She seemed to take that well enough and nodded. “I also hear that you had a few close encounters with our new enemy. I wonder if you've considered who may be behind this.”

She was asking _him?_ The scrub? Good lord, it could have literally been anyone. Poe's face seemed to provide the same train of thought he did. “Your Majesty, I'm going to be honest. I'm still new to this job-”

“I know,” she nodded again, voice not unkind, “I've taken the liberty of looking you up, Finn. I just want to know your opinion is all.”

His opinion? Poe was frowning now, confused, but Finn wasn't as lost anymore. He knew what she was getting at now, but he wasn't sure if he could- _should_ voice something like that. Or maybe she was seeing if he had the balls to do it... He glanced back to Poe. If his life was worth that of the other man's, then surely his new career was as well.

Finn swallowed and looked the Queen in the eye with a confidence he didn't have. “The walls are thin, your Majesty. I was standing by the door and could hear you speaking before I entered.”

She smiled wide, happily looking back at Finn before turning away to pace back to the window view of the gardens. “The two men outside of those doors are more loyal to this damn crown than I am, but I don't know whether to be more impressed by the fact that that was your first concern or that you came to the same conclusion as I did.”

Poe was still frowning. “What conclusion?”

The Queen turned back to stare at Finn with amusement, while he just looked between them and finally just said it. “It was an inside job.”

She didn't react, but Poe could have jumped out of his skin by how quickly he wheeled around to him, taking a step back. “What do you mean? Like- We were infiltrated?”

Finn tried to smile but just grimaced instead. “More likely it was a turn coat than someone coming in from the outside.”

“A traitor?” Poe's voice sounded weak when he said it, like he couldn't believe something like that could happen. And why would he ever think it could? These people were here to help serve and protect the crown, likely people they saw every day. It was a little bit jarring.

“Finn,” the Queen caught his attention, “I'd like to know how you decided on all of this.”

Poe frowned, more anger hidden behind his face like he completely forgot the man in front of him just saved his life last night. “I'd like to hear that, too.”

Finn sighed, unhappy with how this was going. “No one was meant to know that we were there in the first place. Then, just to be paranoid, we booked the entire top three floors and put you into a room at random. That's why I was where you found me. Technically, I was still in our sector. The first bomb was detonated in _your_ quarters. That's not a coincidence. And never mind that even I didn't know where they were keeping you or even who we were there to protect. To couple with everything else, it was someone higher up than me with more jurisdiction, so they had to be doing this for years.” _Maybe even someone you knew._

He swallowed, turning to face the Queen. At this point, he figured he might as well just be blunt and honest. “It could have been a suicide bomber – that would have been easier – but they wouldn't have wasted their mole on a hit. Whoever it was had contact with the team that attacked us. It was planned far too well, everyone there way too trained. There's no doubt in my mind that they would have destroyed the whole building to make sure it was done.”

Poe made his presence known again with a sneer. “Then why didn't they?”

Good question... Finn sighed. “They wanted everyone to know that they were there to kill you. Not some random terrorist attack or a fluke accident. They wanted to make everyone afraid of them. Why they didn't do it as a contingency plan, I don't know. The shooting started right after the first detonation. Maybe there was someone already there that they didn't want caught in the crossfire, like the mole. Maybe they-... Maybe they wanted your body intact... to show you off... I don't know...”

That shut him up, not that Finn really meant for the comment to do so. Really, he was just being honest about the situation, but Poe sobered up and glanced down to the floor. It was clear he didn't like any of this traitor business.

The Queen was looking out to the gardens again, allowing the silence to go between them all for a moment, before continuing her earlier argument. “Poe, by my orders, you will get a bodyguard whether you like it or not,” she said firmly but, again, not unkindly, “I know that we provide you with entourages and escorts for your travels, but this needs to be closer than that and you know it...” She waited for a smart remark and turned back around when none came. “Finn, if you'd like the position, I'd prefer you have the job.”

He could swear both his and the prince's eyes bugged out of their heads. “Me? I- Your Majesty, there's people in my division with _years_ more experience-”

“I have my own reasons for picking you, Finn,” she interrupted calmly. “Whether or not you want the job is up to you.”

He glanced to Poe, seeing the Prince stare back at him blankly.

The Queen chuckled, stepping forward again and completely walking around them. “I'll be right outside,” she announced and exited the room.

As soon as the door closed, Poe's shoulders sagged like a weight had been torn from him with her exit. He stared straight ahead and walked over to the nearest sofa, flopping down unceremoniously. “An inside job.”

Suddenly, Finn felt even more sympathetic than he did a moment ago. “... That's just my opinion. It could be, y'know, just about anything. Any _one_. Might even be some obsessed fangirl with way too much money. We don't know.”

“Yeah,” Poe sighed, unbelieving. He closed his eyes, raking a hand through his hair.

Finn let out a held breath, too, at least feeling more relaxed now. After their excursion, it felt like he had known Poe all his life, like he wasn't damn royalty or something. It was just something about the man that made him comfortable and at ease. So, he went ahead and got right to the point. “What do you want to do?”

By this time, Poe had already flopped an arm over his eyes. “Fire everyone.”

“Oh yeah, sure. Okay.” Finn walked forward until he was sitting next to the Prince, leaning back to stare at the ceiling. “And we'll just let your attacker go out in the streets where they can't be supervised and wait for them to try making a hit again. That's doable.”

Poe groaned. “What are my options?”

The other shrugged. “It sounds like it'll be me or someone else that the Queen is going to appoint and not leave you with a say so. On one hand, they'll have more experience about this than I would. On the other hand-... I don't know. I can't think of a down side.”

“It's going to be someone with a stick up their ass.”

“Yeah,” Finn casually agreed. “Your sneaking out days are over, man.”

Surprisingly, Poe laughed and pulled his arm down enough to elbow the other man with it. “Stop,” he chuckled, readjusting himself in the way too plush seat to lean forward before sighing. “What do you want to do?” the Prince asked, pulling his fingers through his curly hair again.

“I don't want to fuck this up,” he answered easily, the first thing coming to mind. Why did the Queen pick him? Who would she get if not him? Would Poe just rebel more? How much of an idiot was Poe _really?_ “To be totally honest with you-... I mean I took this job for the money. Benefits and all that, you know? A government job.” Poe nodded in understanding, so Finn continued, “But through the training and the research, I just- I don't know. I feel like this is way bigger than me now, that I'm really serving a cause here, like I'm going to make a difference... Didn't really feel like I was doing something until last night, though.”

“Finn, don't take this job because you're bored.”

He laughed, “I'm not saying that.” It felt good making a difference in someone's life. He was being trained to protect people and last night he finally got to stretch those muscles under some serious stress. And maybe he was lucky or maybe his coffee was spiked that morning, but he was _good_ at it. Not that Poe was helpless, either. He seemed to be trained as well, almost surprisingly so. They just worked great together. Like, really great for two idiots who hadn't met before that moment. It felt like they were connected now, like it was mutual. He'd be stupid to turn this down.

So he rolled his head to the side, looking back at Poe who was watching him intently. “What do _you_ want to do?”

The Prince sighed, looking past Finn to the far wall. “If I have to pick someone – and it's starting to really sound like that's what I have to do – I'd pick you...”

Finn smiled lazily and sat up. “I guess we're doing this.”

At that, Poe met his eyes again, another big smile splitting his handsome face just like before as he began to laugh. “Yeah... We're doing this.”

When they walked together back into the hallway, the TV was off and the Queen sat in a chair facing the door. She took one look at them and smiled. “Good choice, boys.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure how often updates will be, but they'll go up at least once a week. Also, I only have a vague idea of where this will end up.
> 
> I imagine some of you are eyeballing the fact that Poe is Leia's nephew. That'll be explained later. Probably way later, but it will be explained.
> 
> Let me know what you think so far! Should I keep trucking on? We really need more bodyguard AU's, okay, I won't lie.


	2. Chapter 2

The palace that served as the primary residence for Queen Leia and Prince Poe was a sprawling web with more land than seemed to be necessary at first glance. On closer inspection, the palace was not only home to the royal family, but also to a majority of the two hundred members of staff that called this their base of operations. Everything from advisors to generals to cooks to event coordinators to security to gardeners and everything else Finn could possibly dream up existed in this palace. He learned this a short while after taking the job and nearly slapped himself for not just assuming all of these positions and personnel were here as staff.

From the outside, the palace looked like crystalline spires towering high in each direction on the rose compass. In the day, the buildings looked iridescent. At night, it looked like it reflected the stars above. Apparently the design was one of accident. It's the white bricks, one of his superiors told him when Finn mentioned that the palace looked so different to him now. The bricks reflect the light and, from far away (like the distance a bystander or tourist would be), the palace seemed to cast a heavenly glow. With all the minute details being so fine and accurate on the inside, Finn wondered if that so called glow was as accidental as he would be led to believe.

Either way, up close the palace didn't look so much like a fairy tale. It was just a bunch of buildings meshed together to make a workable fortress for their uses. Now, he figured it would have to start looking like home real fast unless this job was solely meant for the times Poe had to travel on some sort of business trip (which was always, according to the Prince's schedule for the months to come). Though, he wasn't sure how many people were aware of Poe's sneaking out habits. And it had to be a habit if he evaded so many of his own guard at that hotel. The idiot was experienced with putting himself in danger.

Maybe this job wasn't such a good idea. If Poe decided to sneak away from him and something happened, Finn would be held liable. Talk about a set up for success. To be fair to the Prince, though, he really didn't want someone looking out for him to begin with. Maybe they'd just have to get to know each other?

Either way, once the Queen made Finn's new position known, he was whisked away by his superiors for a briefing. Surprisingly, the briefing included the fact that they were no longer his superiors, that Finn suddenly had a horrifyingly high security clearance, and that he would basically be working as his own unit. In a more friendlier tone, they offered their advice and expertise on any questions he may have later on. No one seemed to be jealous or angry at him for snagging this job, which he couldn't decide if he was pleased about or not. On one hand, he was happy no one was glaring daggers through his skull. On the other, it was pretty clear no one envied his new found position of being Poe's babysitter. In fact, they were sympathetic. He was screwed. Though, they also mentioned a significant pay raise, so there was that.

While Finn was becoming more and more anxious with every word spoken to him, he surprisingly found that he didn't regret this choice. Not yet, anyway, but he still didn't regret it. The responsibility and lack of knowledge was scary, yeah. He was responsible for someone's life. Not just any someone, but the guy that would be King, the guy that would control this country some day, the guy that could decide the fate of millions if push came to shove. Poe was pretty damn important, and his life suddenly depended on Finn.

He chose not to think too hard about that, and it wasn't difficult to do so. Poe just didn't act very regal, it seemed to him. He was just another guy, someone Finn happened to like and get along fairly well with, the feeling seeming to at least be mutual. It would take a lot for him to regret this job.

When his ex-superiors finally let him go (with well wishes, tight smiles, and a few pats on the back), Finn was now aware that everyone did in fact know of Poe's inability to stay in one place for more than sixty seconds. As such, they informed him that it would be wise to just move into the palace, preferably close to Poe's quarters. He assumed as much. What he didn't assume, and what was slowly starting to occur to him, was that this job wasn't just for the next few years. Poe wouldn't be royalty for just the next few years. Unless someone took Finn's place, this job would last as long as Poe did. It was twenty-four hours for the rest of his life.

Maybe in some odd years a replacement would come to be. Until then, he would test the waters and observe his new life. Besides, not all of Poe's well being was placed on his shoulders alone. There was the entire Royal Guard and Poe's own entourage that an attacker would have to get through. Finn was merely the quite literal last line of defense. His job would primarily include escaping from unsavory situations. It didn't ease his new found nerves and paranoia any less, though. As he walked down a beautifully detailed hallway that probably had it's own name like The Blue Room or something else equally ridiculous, Finn was making a mental list of things he needed to take care of before Poe had to leave again. After the attack, they were keeping him close for the foreseeable future, canceling meetings and appearances left and right. It doubled as a great opportunity for Finn to get settled.

At the end of the hall sat Poe in one of the many plush chairs sprinkled about the room, the Prince staring unfocused out of one of the tall windows. Finn paused mid-stride, immediately thinking that the other man had actually been waiting for him, before banishing the idea and continuing his approach. Now that there was finally a quiet moment with not even another soul around to be a bother, Finn took a good look at the Prince for the first time. His lightly tanned skin, dark hair, the brush of stubble on his cheeks, that striking jawline, eyes that looked both too bright and too wise for his age- He was handsome. Not even a kind of wealthy beauty that money could be. The man was just naturally handsome, and Finn smirked to the thought. No doubt the Prince knew how he looked and played it up when the chance decided to ever present itself, the bastard.

When those brown eyes darted over to him and a smile grew on the other man's face, Finn's smirk widened.

“Hey, buddy,” Poe was the first of them to speak, standing as Finn got closer. “Decided to wait on you, see if they gave you the third degree or not.”

So he did wait on him... “Worse,” he answered, forcing himself back into the present, “They gave me higher security clearance.”

“Yeesh,” Poe made a face, continuing the walk alongside Finn, “Responsibility sucks.”

“Tell me about it.”

* * *

 Poe had decided to wait for Finn to keep the other man from hunting him down later. Or so he told himself. It was just easier that way, he told the stupid voice in his head. It had nothing to do with genuinely enjoying Finn's company or wanting to keep him close or watching that beautiful smile bloom across his face again.

The first time Poe had seen that smile, they had just managed to get on the ground floor of that horrible hotel. Sirens wailed in the distance over the sound of far off gun fire, but there was a patrol and look outs on their floor which kept them pinned in a hiding spot for a minute or so. Finn had taken out one of the patrolmen from behind as quietly as he could, and Poe picked off a semi-automatic from the unconscious form at his feet from their cover behind the reception desk. Poe loaded the magazine with practiced hands, praying his heart would stop trying to beat through his throat, when he glanced to the new guy in his guard. Finn was smiling at him, big and wide and genuine, nearly dissolving into giggles right there. Poe, for the moment, was worried the damn man cracked until the guardsman spoke up. _“Sorry, it's just- I think we're actually going to survive this bullshit. This is crazy.”_

Poe had smiled, had wanted to laugh with him, but that happy go lucky look on the other man's face brought him to pause. Suddenly, Finn was handsome – _incredibly_ handsome – and that smile could light a room. His heart just decided to go ahead and beat faster, though, causing him to grip the gun tighter and want out of that mess.

Somehow, they did get out, in no small blame to the man walking by his side right at that moment. Yes, he was new to this whole business and he didn't even know what Poe looked like twenty-four hours ago, but he trusted Finn with his life. Leia knew that. She must have gathered as much when he was recounting their stupid little adventure. And maybe he did find himself going on and on about all the things Finn had done that were both noble and crazy just to keep him safe from harm. Maybe he even mentioned how much he hated it, how much he couldn't wait to get a weapon in his hands so that he could help. Evidently, that did little to change her mind.

Yes, Poe didn't like to be sheltered when he could handle himself, but even he understood that he was going to be King someday and that meant a _lot_. He meant a _lot_. Even so, something just didn't sit right with him about all of this. No one should have to feel obligated to take a bullet meant for him. No one should have to die just to ensure he wouldn't be harmed. His life meant just as much as the next person's... but that was how he always saw it. With Finn, well, maybe he should have fought this one more. Maybe he still could. He cared about the other guy, beautiful smile or not. This whole thing was stupid.

Why didn't he fight it more? Why didn't he agree to someone else?

_Because now you can see that beautiful smile all day, every day._

Yeah, he wasn't selfish at all...

“They said I should look into moving in.” Finn's voice brought him back to the present. “I don't know about you, but I'm still a little shell shocked.”

Poe laughed, hoping he didn't sound too giddy about it. “Yeah, they mentioned the same to me. Thought I'd go ahead and show you where I lived. You could probably have your pick of the rooms in this place, by the way.”

The guardsman shook his head. “Oh, don't say that. This is too much for one day.”

Poe laughed again... Dammit, he needed to stop that. “Speaking of a place to lay your head, did you manage any sleep since last night?”

“A little,” Finn admitted with a frown as his eyes stayed looking straight ahead. He didn't seem to really be looking at anything, though. Just thinking. Poe found it kind of endearing. “The head of the Guard spoke to me last night... or this morning, I don't know anymore. Anyway, I'd say I got about an hour after that. Didn't mean to fall asleep. Yesterday was just crazy.”

“Yeah,” Poe agreed. He had never been in a situation like that. He was trained for it, drilled on it, warned of it, but he never thought that it would actually happen. And now someone out there wanted him dead very badly, someone he may even know. Crazy was one word for it. “I didn't really get any. Between the adrenaline and worrying about you-” _Wow, Poe!_ Did he really just say that? “I'll sleep good tonight, though.” Smooth.

Finn, bless his beautiful heart, just gave him a small smile in return. “If it makes you feel any better, I only managed to nod off after the knight told me that you were all right. Seriously, they want me to protect you, then split us up as soon as they get the chance? I guess it was safer that way for you.”

The Prince only vaguely listened to a voice that suddenly sounded so far away due to the blood rushing through his ears. Finn was only able to sleep after he knew Poe was okay? Oh God, he was going to die before all this assassination stuff was over with just from blushing too much.

He cleared his throat, desperately wanting to change the subject. “Yeah, well-” Poe rubbed his neck, unsure what to really direct the conversation, too. “Right, I was going to show you my housing. Um, the staircase is this way.” He suddenly took a right through an open doorway. It would be quicker to go this way rather than the way they had been headed. The sooner this was over, the sooner he could breathe again.

Finn easily kept pace, falling into what looked like a comfortable, thoughtful silence. It really wasn't fair that Poe could just stare at him like this without the guardsman even really noticing. His skin was beautiful. His eyes were beautiful. His lips were beauti- Damn, his arm under that jacket sleeve looked like it was ripped as hell. Would he see Finn without a jacket at some point? Why was he daydreaming about it now? Why was he wishing so dearly for it? Why was he hoping his bodyguard would strip for him if he asked nicely enough? _Poe, this is your bodyguard. Stop fantasizing about your bodyguard. Stop fetishising your bodyguard!_

Finn wasn't making it any easier- hadn't been since the first time they laid eyes on one another. He seemed like such a genuinely good person. Like he knew the hardships of life, but held on to the happiness of innocence anyway simply because he chose to. Like that damn smile of his made everything better.

… Good God, Poe couldn't remember the last time he had it this bad. This was stupid. This whole arrangement was stupid. Why did he place him as his bodyguard? This was stupid! _What are you thinking, Poe? What are you doing?_

He shook his head as they approached the Grand Staircase, deciding that maybe a couple of ground rules wasn't such a bad idea to lay down before things really got complicated. “We should probably talk about this whole bodyguard thing.”

“Yeah,” the other agreed. “You go first.”

Of course he had questions and comments and demands. Poe could practically hear him already chastising about sneaking out last night before the attack.

The Prince put it out of his mind and stopped on the first few steps, suddenly serious. Before anything else happened, he needed to make this clear. “Look, Finn,” he turned back to the other man who looked a bit shocked over the shift. Poe just wrapped his hands together, trying to not look like he was fidgeting. “If something happens to me, it's not going to be your fault. Understand?” Taken aback, Finn opened his mouth, but Poe quickly stopped him with a shake of his head. “I'm serious. Whether you would blame yourself or not, I'm just putting it out there before this keeps going. With the way things are right now, I literally don't know what tomorrow will bring or even the next half hour. If things go down, I know you'll do your best. And if the worst happens, then just... you know.” He shrugged, suddenly losing his regal edge. “I know this is a lot, and it's all happening really fast. I just don't want you to blame yourself just because I have some badasses after me, all right?”

When he was finally done, Poe allowed a moment for Finn to think and respond. Eventually, he received a frown. “Unless you can see the future-”

“Finn, I'm serious.” The Prince could tell that his bodyguard was being absolutely serious, too, but he still wasn't going to stand for any blame game over his corpse. This wasn't the dark ages. He wouldn't let his guards fall just because he did.

Another moment passed between them, Finn staring at Poe so intently that the Prince suddenly felt naked right there on the staircase. He was thinking, looking both through him and into him, trying to read everything he could. Damn if it didn't have one amazing affect. Poe gulped, hoping his guard wouldn't notice his unease.

Finn finally blinked, the moment passing as he came back to himself. “I understand,” he said evenly, seriously, as he continued their path up the stairs, “but I don't think you know how good my best is yet.”

Poe smiled, pleased enough with the answer before turning and following after him.

When they reached the landing of the third story, the guardsman slowed his pace and glanced around. “Which way from here?”

“We are here.” Poe couldn't help but smirk a little.

“What?”

His smile grew. “This wing of the palace is mine.”

It took about two steps before he realized that Finn had stopped walking, staring dumbly back at the Prince. Before he could ask, the guardsman nearly whined. “You have got to stop saying stuff like that. I'm going to pass out on you or something.”

Poe laughed for the _third_ time since he ran into his new friend again and clapped him on the arm. “C'mon. It's not that scary. You'll get used to it, anyway. Live a little bit of the good life.”

“The good life, yeah,” Finn repeated, disbelieving.

The Prince just smirked, patting the arm – _God above, he really is built. Someone save me. –_ and led the way to the room he took years ago as his own. “So, what did you want to talk to me about first?”

“Sneaking out.”

“Figured that would be number one.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this chapter literally took all week. I meant to update way sooner, but 'tis life. Anyway, this chapter is basically setting up for the rest of the story, which I finally know what to do with now. Thanks for reading!


	3. Chapter 3

After a brief tour of the south wing, the two of them settled down in a less than lavish sitting room. Well, Finn figured that he thought it was just less fancy than the rest of the palace. It certainly didn't look bad in any way. Just lived in. Intricate wall designs and solid marble columns were still scattered throughout the wing, but there weren't as many statues or paintings of people that grade school children were currently learning about. There were a couple of Pollock's and Monet's here and there, though. He expected the Monet, but Pollock? That was probably all Poe Dameron.

Speaking of, the Prince had shown him a few empty rooms on their tour. “Guest beds,” he explained. “They don't see a lot of action these days.” So now Finn had a selection of rooms to choose from, all beautiful and fancy and overwhelming. He resolved to just decide later.

They also managed to discuss the whole sneaking out thing. Poe argued that he felt like he had always been held on too tight of a leash. Finn understood but also brought up the fact that the other man nearly died the night before. Poe countered that if he hadn't sneaked out, he would most certainly be dead right now anyway. Finn huffed.

“I'm still not letting go of this sneaking out thing,” he told the Prince, leaning forward in the comfortable navy chair to look out the third story window. Like the rest of the palace, every wall was lined with the tall floor to ceiling windows and they were always open except for night time. They were also one-way glass and bulletproof. Still, from here he had a great view of the back gardens, stables, and that giant fountain he ogled at his first day on the job. From this perspective, it felt like they were far out in the country with no dependents breathing down everyone's necks. It was nice.

Finn rubbed a hand over his forearm, rolling up a bit of his dark gray long sleeve shirt, his jacket forgotten over the back of his seat. Even as he watched, spoke, listened, he was still thinking about everything he had to do next. He couldn't assume that Poe was safe in the palace since this was probably an inside job. Even though they struck from the outside, they still botched the damn thing. At least here there were more good guys than bad, and the two of them seemed to be more or less on their own in this wing.

“I know you're not,” Poe sighed in the chair next to him. “I'd be disappointed if you were, I guess... I'll be honest, that shit last night kind of freaked me out.”

“So you won't do it again?”

“I'm not pinky swearing, but-...”

Finn just laughed it off, shaking his head. No, that wasn't going to stop with just a conversation and a threat. Poe seemed to be made of a stronger fire than that. So, for now, he pushed it aside and went ahead to another topic. “When did you learn how to handle a rifle?”

He could hear the smile in Poe's voice. “They wouldn't let me near guns until I was ten. Legally, I think I was still too young, but they took it slow and taught me what I needed. I just thought it was fun back then, you know? Meanwhile, they're thinking that a ten year old might need to know how to shoot a gun...”

No wonder the Prince would sneak away so much. Just that alone proved how much pressure he was under. “But you didn't have to back then.”

“I think they just started early so I could do it without thinking later on,” Poe continued, the smile in his voice gone now. “I can at least say that much worked out for me. Never shot at anyone before last night. I'm still surprised I could do it at all.”

And that was a totally different topic that Finn didn't even think of until now. He looked over to the man beside him. “Are you all right after all that?” he asked quietly, sincerely.

Poe didn't really look at him, though. Instead, he closed his eyes and snorted. “I was cleared by three different therapists and they still want to see me weekly. If you ask me, I'm fine. Still shook up... Could use a nap, but I'm fine.”

“Wanna do this later?”

“No,” the Prince answered almost too quickly, but his voice still stayed calm. “No. We should get whatever we have to out of the way now. Besides, they won't let me sleep until tonight anyway.”

Finn wanted to argue that Poe seemed to have some free time now, but maybe he really didn't. Maybe he literally took this time aside just for them. With that in mind, he continued back to his earlier topics after a short pause. “What about hand to hand?”

“Started that when I was about seven or so.” Poe's smile made a reappearance. “I know what you're about to ask. I still train a good bit, work out at least once a day. They taught me with knives and swords and tasers and all kinds of crazy shit. They even taught me how to fight on horseback. Like, when is that going to be useful?”

“Seriously, man. Don't jinx us.” Finn didn't even know how to ride a damn horse.

The Prince laughed, a sound that he was beginning to really like. It was breathy, rough, almost musical. “We can spar some tomorrow if you're up for it. You'd knock me flat right now. A light breeze could knock me flat right now.”

“I'm surprised the stairs didn't finish me off, personally.” They both laughed at the admission, giggling like school girls. Finn chalked it up to their shared exhaustion, knowing it wouldn't always be at all like this. He shook it off, but kept the smile as he rubbed the back of his neck. “And your little entourage, is that as big as what we had last night?”

“Typically, yeah,” Poe breathed through a silent chuckle. So that meant twenty men on guard usually. It sounded like a hell of a lot, but it really wasn't. Once everyone found a post to stay and keep watch, there were usually anywhere between five and eight people that stayed with their objective. If Poe were to go to a meeting, something private to talk between rulers, that number would dwindle to at most two. At most. Sometimes. Usually it was no one, leaving their objective alone while praying the foreign leader didn't decide to start a war by murdering a member of the royal family.

But now Finn was here. With his security clearance, he could go to those stupid meetings with Poe while staying by his side through everything else. They usually took it in shifts or teams, but now it was just him. In a lot of ways, that was better. He could personally get to know Poe Dameron. Learn what situations made him want to run away, what types of alcohol made him want to dance on table tops, what kinds of animal fur he was allergic to, what sort of people he just plain didn't like, what situations he was comfortable or uncomfortable in- Things they don't usually tell new hires at orientation.

When he was done here, he would have to go back to the Guard and find some blueprints on this palace. The King's Roads, the hidden passages behind bookshelves and smooth walls, were on a strict need to know basis. Finn needed to know. He would also have to gain another audience with the Queen, but at least it wouldn't take nearly as long this time. In fact, it could probably wait a day or two if she were busy. It would give him time to think, but he still wanted to put a bug in her ear about his ideas before too much time passed.

Finn eventually sighed, thankful for the fact that Poe didn't seem to mind his random silences. Maybe the other man was just too tired to care right now. Still, he spoke up. “I'm just going to go ahead and ask. Any enemies I should know about?”

“Other than political ones, you mean?”

He nodded. After a billion and a half drills, Finn knew _all about_ their political enemies and allies. He wanted to know about personal ones, just in case.

For a moment, Poe seemed to think on it. “Can't say I have many jilted lovers,” he thought aloud, looking out of the window. “I really can't think of anyone, to be totally honest with you. I mean, I've ran into people I didn't like or they didn't like me, but no one that straight up said _I'm going to blow up your hotel room in three years time._ ”

Finn laughed again. “You're crazy.”

“Come to think of it, there was this one kid in my preschool class-”

“Poe,” he laughed harder, finally leaning back in the chair with a hand over his eyes, “I'm trying to be serious here. Come on, man.”

The Prince let out another laugh, seeming to always be that way. Finn began to wonder what he was like when he wasn't exhausted, when a distinct jingle began to rapidly approach their room. He turned around just in time to spy a small corgi stop outside of the door, staring inside and straight at Finn with dark eyes.

The dog was like a statue, a little unnerving as he just stared a hole through Finn's head. However, at Poe's voice, “Hey, babe! Where you been?” the dog's ears struck up before he promptly makes a mad dash for the Prince, scuttling his little legs right over Finn's feet in his hurry to jump on Poe's lap.

… No one mentioned a dog when they hurriedly handed him this job.

“Finn,” again, Poe brought him back to the present, “this is BB the Eighth, my loyal companion.” Even as he spoke, the Prince ruffled the dog's fur. “BB, this is Finn. He's our new buddy.” Goodness, he was talking to it.

He couldn't help but try his hardest to hide a wide smile. “Hey, BB.”

The dog turned to him again, the stubby tail stopping mid-wag as it jumped down from his perch to stalk over suspiciously to Finn and smell him. “Territorial,” he chuckled, offering his hand to smell, “I like that.”

“She's not exactly a boxer or greyhound,” Poe laughed, twisting in his seat to watch the pair, “but she has more spirit than the two combined. You'll see. By the way, she _loves_ socks, so don't leave them around. You'll lose them.”

Noted. “Why the Eighth?” He spied one of her dog tags that made a jingle when the clanged together. _BB VIII._

“She was the runt in a litter of eight.”

“Oh.”

He didn't miss the way Poe smiled at him, somewhere between soft and admiring, before he turned back to the dog at his feet which was slowly growing a bit more sure of him. As much as he would like to distract himself with the dog, that smile kind of made his stomach drop... in an oddly nice way... Right, he'd distract himself with work instead. “You're the sole heir,” he evenly stated, hands still playing with the dog.

“Yeah,” he heard Poe sigh the word, like he just didn't want to talk about all of this right now. “The only one.”

Finn looked up to him. “Why?” The Prince rose an eyebrow, but he just shrugged. “I flunked my way through Civics. Humor me.” He knew the broader details more or less, the same thing everyone knew, but he wanted to hear it from Poe himself. He did consider, in the back of his mind, that perhaps it wasn't fair. It could be a bit of a harsh subject, but-

Poe smirked before his thoughts could run on. “I think you know most of it,” he said, readjusting himself in the chair to look out of the window again. “Leia's my aunt. Her brother was Luke, my father. He died before I was born. I think that's what they tell the kids now.” He glanced to the floor, Finn watching his every move through this story. “Anyway, my mother was Shara Bey, a pilot in the Armed Forces who came to serve under The Royal Guard. They weren't married, just dating. It was after he died that she realized she was pregnant with me. Leia never married, never had kids of her own, so I was crowned as Prince and heir, despite being born out of wedlock... Maybe that's why people are after me. They don't like that...”

“A fine time to do that now that you're a grown man,” Finn muttered, though he did believe his sentiments were right. These guys were militant. It was way more than birth right they were after if Poe was the one and only.

The Prince just shrugged it off. “It's a good excuse if nothing else. Besides, under normal circumstances, I would have gotten the throne when I came of age, but Leia's so damn good at what she does and... I feel like I'm not ready yet.”

Everyone knew that much of the story, though. Everyone who was alive at the time remembered the night Luke was killed, murdered in an extremely short lived invasion before the Armed Forces massacred the enemy. The entire invasion lasted a few hours, would have been considered a hysterical defeat if they hadn't killed the king. “Correct me if I'm wrong,” Finn frowned, “but I don't think this is a job someone's ever really prepared to do.”

The Prince gave a genuine smile but didn't respond to the encouragement. Instead, he stared out of the window again, eyes seeming to look at nothing. Finn wanted to feel bad for bringing up the subject and nearly apologized, but BB suddenly jumped into Poe's lap, dispelling whatever mist had clouded him. Now he laughed again, ruffling BB's neck and jingling her collar. “What do you think of Finn, babe? He's a keeper?”

“Well, let's hope I can at least pass the dog's inspection.” Poe laughed again as the guard ran a hand behind his neck. “By the way, I could probably Google this, but... where does Dameron come from? Luke's sir name was-”

“Skywalker.” Thankfully, the Prince was smiling as he spoke, eyes bright again. “I always thought it was weird, but that is actually my last name. Dameron's my middle name. It was the sir name of my father's bodyguard. He died that night, too.”

It didn't really seem to bother him to talk about that part, but it kind of made Finn think. King Luke had a personal bodyguard, too. Dameron, who died with his King. He blinked, realizing he had a massive respect for this man that no one had really bothered to acknowledge in the wake of the King's death. A shame, really. The whole thing was a shame.

Suddenly, Poe seemed to deflate. “I was wanting to wait until tomorrow maybe to bring this up, but... since we're on the subject of funerals and death and shit-...”

Finn immediately frowned, kicking himself for not thinking of this sooner. In fact, he assumed that there would be a private wake for friends of family of the dead from last night's attack, and Poe would be content to only attend that. Stupid. “No.”

“Finn-”

“You almost died last night,” he calmly argued, “They know you don't come out in public often. They know that you'll want to make an appearance for this just to show them that you can.”

“It's not for them. It's for my people.”

And Finn did see the logic in that. He really did. “Either way, you still don't make appearances often. Not only is it a sure opportunity, but they also have to chance to do this with the world watching.”

“But that's my biggest defense,” Poe replied, glancing away from BB to look at him in that serious, regal stare he had before, “The world is going to be watching, waiting, on the edges of their seats, looking for a pin to drop. If they attack during all of that, it'll be a suicide mission. Not only for them, but for whatever country or organization they represent. Our allies greatly outnumber our enemies, Finn.”

The guardsman didn't look away from that stare, didn't flinch at all, just like before. It was weird to see Poe like this, but oddly amazing at the same time. He commanded respect when he wanted to. “It'll be a successful suicide mission if they manage to kill you. Don't you think they know the risks?”

“Of course they do,” the Prince sighed, “That's why they went through hell to cover their tracks back at the hotel. We haven't found anything on them to link them to an affiliate. The news is claiming it was just a terrorist attack. We can't even figure out where they bought the damn weapons. These guys were slick, clean. But the funeral procession is going to be live, in front of everyone. I won't just have you and the Guard and the Armed Forces and a crowd of mourners. The entire world is going to be watching my back. There's no where on this Earth I'll be safer. If everyone's watching the funeral, and I'm not there, then no one's watching me.”

Finn really wanted to just say _fuck you_ , because dammit he had really good points. “Were you trained to do that?”

“... What?”

“ _That._ Don't act like you don't know what I mean.”

“Debate's important for a politician slash monarch,” Poe laughed, the royal shroud falling from his shoulders again as he came back to himself like he just couldn't help it. The smile stayed even as he looked back to the dog leaning against his chest. “Finn, they died because of me,” he whispered to the room, his tone serious and wistful. “I want to do this for them and their families. I want to show them that I'm not scared. That they didn't die for a candy ass... You know?”

Dammit. Damn this job. Damn the Prince. Damn the whole damn crown. “I'll arrange it with the Guard.” Poe looked over to him, a huge smile blooming across his face, but Finn just pointed at him accusingly. “Don't think you're going to be winning every argument, Dameron. And don't be surprised if your leash is going to be so tight out there that you'll choke on it.”

“I can live with that,” Poe still gave him that bright smile, though, adjusting in his seat again until he was sitting straight.

But with this funeral, all of Finn's plans were suddenly booted forward by weeks, not to mention that he had a lot more to handle now to prepare for this whole thing. The Prince probably wouldn't be out in front of the public eye for more than thirty seconds, ten minutes tops, but what a hell those ten minutes were going to be. “When are services?” How long did he have?

“Day after tomorrow.”

Not long enough. He had hoped the bodies would be under more investigation but apparently not. Well, maybe this was the real job. Preparing for the impossible and unexpected on extremely short notice. He had a feeling this was tame compared to what he was going to be doing later on, though. Realistically, there wasn't a lot that Finn really had to do for this. He would have to tell the Guard that the Prince was definitely attending (probably with or without them, actually) and work with them on coordinating defenses around him. No doubt they had already done the same for the Queen, who was more than likely going to be present. If they could include Poe in that bubble, step up security a little, it could be possible. “I can work with that.”

But he would have to work with the Guard, learn the palace's layout, and speak to the Queen privately before then. The last one was the only truly difficult thing, because it was what he intended to speak with her _about_ that Finn wanted to get out of the way before Poe made a public appearance again. That could take longer than a few days. Oh, and he had to move in.

Instead of standing and getting a move on with his growing list, Finn gave into exhaustion and relaxed back into the chair, not wanting to ruin Poe's time that he scheduled out just for the two of them. “I need a nap.”

“Might as well,” Poe let out a contented sigh as he leaned back in the plush but rather stiff chair. He made it look comfortable somehow. “I'm Crown Prince Poe Dameron Skywalker, sole heir to the throne, and I command naps be taken at least twice a day by everyone deserving of it.”

It took a moment for Finn to give up and just burst out laughing, holding his face in his hands. “I don't know how I'm going to deal with you.”

Poe laughed with him, just egged on by the other man's spontaneous happiness. “You'll figure it out. Won't he, BB?” The dog smacked her lips in reply, legs stuck out as she sprawled over his royal lap, already fast asleep. “Yeah. Me, too.”

“Don't know how I'll deal with you or the mutt,” he muttered back.

“Hey.” Poe's suddenly serious tone caught his attention. “She's registered.”

Finn cracked up again.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BB-8 makes a dramatic appearance. Also, Poe's lineage! That's totally legit, right? Right? Not questionable at all. God, I'm starting to see how SLOW BURN this fic is actually going to be. I start grad school early next month, so... we'll see how often updates are when that happens.
> 
> Sorry that the entire chapter takes place in one room for one conversation. Like wow. But, on the plus side, we're going to be seeing appearances from other characters really soon.
> 
> Anyway, I wanted to thank you guys for all the kudos and comments and stuff. Even the hits! Thanks a lot!


	4. Chapter 4

Poe thought that maybe he would pass out before he even got on the mat.

True to his word, he had finally managed a dreamless sleep the night before. It didn't feel particularly restful once he managed to rise again the next morning, but it was still sleep. He couldn't complain.

It wasn't exhaustion that had him swaying on his feet, though. Finn had found him that morning in the kitchens at breakfast, flashing him that beautiful smile as soon as their eyes fell on one another. It was... a little embarrassing, actually. He was a damn prince, freaking royalty, and he was by himself eating wheat thins out of a plastic bowl in his socks. Royalty. A prince. He could have crawled under the table if it wouldn't have provoked too much suspicion. But Finn didn't seem to mind or even notice Poe's state of undress. He merely happily reminded the Prince of his offer for sparring that day and wondered if he was still up for it. “Absolutely,” was out of his mouth before his brain could catch up.

And that was Poe's entire problem right now. Well, his stupid mouth and that black tank top that fit slightly too smug and showed off more muscles on one man than should be possible or even legal. _Built_ couldn't describe Finn anymore. He needed a better word. _God-like_ was a good one. _Titan_ fit him better. Geez, he was hot. He was so hot. And then he smiled that giant fucking smile, tightening the straps of his leather gloves, chalk dust dancing off of him like specks of light. “Ready?” his guard asked, taking an easy stance.

When Poe offered the day before for a sparring match, he really did think it was a great idea. Finn could get a better understanding of what the Prince could do, what he could handle, and they would work that much better as a team. Also, Poe would likely get a cute glimpse and some great contact from him, so it was win-win. Only now that cute glimpse was like a front row seat at a Black Sabbath concert or, maybe, to the literal Big Bang. It was amazing and intense and he couldn't hear shit anymore.

Poe blinked, being flung back to the modern gym that the King had added on to the palace decades ago. The place that Finn had glanced around in when they entered and did that _fucking smile_ and said, “Oh my God, it looks like the real world in here,” like the damn gym was the most beautiful place on Earth and Jesus Christ on a freaking bike, Poe couldn't-

He blinked again. “Yeah,” the Prince shook his head, “Yeah, sorry. You're built, man. It's intimidating.” Poe took a stance to counter Finn's, praying that his mouth would please just shut the hell up.

Finn laughed, a breathy, musical sound. “The Guard likes their employees to be fit. You know, for the calendar.”

“You keep going, I'll actually make that a thing.” _Shut up! Shut up!_ Weren't they supposed to be fighting right now? Kicking each other's ass? _Stop flirting, Dameron, you complete piece of shit! Stop it!_

His guardsman laughed again, damn him. “We'll see. Bring it on.” He motioned his hand forward, willing Poe to make the first move. Right. Right, he was being judged here. Right.

Poe willed himself to focus, determined to prove his worth here. If it came to it again, he didn't want Finn to push him aside and out of the fight. That wasn't how this relationship of theirs was going to go. It didn't matter who had what title. He was never going to let Finn make a sacrifice like that for him.

Which only brought the thought of tomorrow to mind. The funeral. He didn't want to think about it, not until he had to.

Being mindful of Finn's still bandaged bicep from that bullet wound, Poe sprung forward, determined to make this fight over quick. But Finn, precious Finn, had already feinted him before the match even started, jerking out with his wounded arm and forcing Poe to scramble back before he could be hit or grabbed. “You could have saved that one for later,” the Prince commented, thinking about how bad that could have been if he went half the fight thinking the arm wouldn't have been used.

But Finn just _smiled_ at him. “I knew you'd do something like that. Don't go easy on me, Dameron.” Fuck if Poe didn't love it when he called him that. “I wanna see what you're really made of. Come on.”

His teeth fussed with his bottom lip as he thought it over. Instead of letting the other man have the wounded arm as a handicap, he would have to use it to his advantage. He had to win this. For Finn's sake later on. This bodyguard business could not go to his head; Poe refused to let it. They were a _team_ now.

He fell forward again, purposely jabbing his opponent's block to make an opening. Finn, of course, was smarter than that and just pushed Poe's fist hurtling for his stomach aside as his hurt shoulder pushed towards the Prince to force him off balance. It nearly worked, but Poe distributed his weight, making himself follow the pull of his wrist that Finn still gripped, orbiting around him in a quick and stupid dodge.

He could already see their differences. Poe was trained, knew the movements like choreography. But Finn was smart. He adapted to the situation, thinking several moves ahead of his opponent and adjusted accordingly to whatever was thrown at him. Catching him off guard would be a chore as Finn didn't really seem to expect anything in particular. He just accepted what was happening and found his own way out.

So Poe shouldn't have been as shocked as he was when Finn's leg tripped him up and he landed soundly on his back with a gasp. _Smooth, Prince Charming._ “Again,” he exhaled over Finn's chuckles. Before the other man could even offer to let him up – and Poe realized belatedly that his movements suggested he was about to do so – the Prince crawled back onto his feet.

Before they began again, he decided to make an excuse for himself. “I'm pretty sure you don't want me starting fights, so let's try you coming at me this time.”

“All right.” Finn bounced on his feet, shook himself with a little smirk, obviously doing this just to humor the Prince. But Poe was still determined to come out of this as the victor.

No sooner than he found a stance for himself, Finn lunged. The first thing Poe noticed was that he wasn't pulling punches in the least. When he said sparring, he meant _sparring_ , and the Prince realized where he was going all wrong with this. He was still going too easy on him. The second thing he noticed was how fucking quick Finn was. Not just his physical movements, but his damn mind as well. To his own credit, Poe had his blocking game on point, but it was one hell of a job to maintain. As soon as Finn spotted an opening, even a millisecond's worth, he jumped for it. The third thing he noticed was that he was being pushed back.

If Poe didn't want to hit the wall and lose very very badly here, he would have to break his block and go on the offensive. But that's exactly what Finn wanted, for him to break his own block. He wasn't nearly as quick as the other man. He'd be decimated in half a second. Finn won as soon as Poe opened his mouth and told him to charge.

But Finn wasn't here to win. He wanted to see what Poe could do, and that's exactly what he was trying to force out. _Attack_ , he was telling him, _Attack or lose._ All the teaching in the world couldn't match Poe with Finn's speed and intellect, but he was trained and he was strong. It would have to be enough.

His palm opened on the next block, grabbing his guardsman's fist and bringing up his knee. A flicker of surprise flashed through the other man's eyes, but it wasn't enough for him to not react. In fact, all he did was reach out with his free arm and grab Poe's leg, holding it there with that _damn smile._

He waited for it, waiting to be tossed to the ground, but nothing happened. Poe absently hopped on his other leg. “Finn.”

“What?”

Stupid smile. Stupid beautiful smile. He was going way too easy on that damn smile. His still free arm was there, just hanging around as Poe hopped on his leg, too stunned to do anything. Finn could have ended it ages ago and hadn't. “You ever hear of the word hypocrite?”

“We both know I can throw you down right now,” the guardsman rationalized, “but I don't know what you could have done if you actually kept up that attack. It was pretty good, by the way.”

No. No, not praise. Anything but. Not with that smile. Poe hopped again, about to lose his balance. “I already lost the opportunity.”

“You knew you had it. You just didn't use it because you assumed it was over.” True. Finn grabbed him, and he gave up. Much like his heart did in that same moment. If this was someone trying to kill him, it would have been different. But it wasn't. It was Finn. Beautiful Finn. Beautiful, brilliant- “I'm serious, Poe. Show me what you got.”

He swallowed, thinking back to the hotel, how he could think of nothing else than to get a weapon so that Finn wasn't fighting for them both. So that they could work together and some idiot wouldn't die just because he was trying to protect another idiot.

The thought of tomorrow shot through him like ice. How easily it could have been eight caskets instead of seven.

Without warning, his fist made an uppercut for Finn's hurt shoulder. Predictably, he backed off at the last second, only enough to loosen the grip on Poe's thigh, but the distance between them now was that much greater for it. Instead of using his knee, the Prince kicked at Finn's ribs, holding his balance all on the leg still planted. The idea was to put his guardsman off balance as he dodged the kick.

But he didn't dodge it. He saw it coming and took the hit, which Poe knew was more than a little love tap. Unfortunately for him, Finn felt like he could have been chiseled from stone, the kick not making him flinch a hair. Poe's surprise at this whole feat, on the other hand, his weight all off since he expected to be falling forward instead of lurching to a halt, was more than enough for his guardsman to break free of the hold his fist was still in, grab Poe by the scruff of his shirt, and _haul his ass_ flat on the ground.

If his back wasn't screaming from being slammed into the mat twice in as many minutes, he'd be so turned on right now. “Did you just-?” Finn was doing that chuckling thing again, dammit. Poe blinked, realizing his guard was kneeling above him. “Did you actually just pick me up and put me on the ground? Did you just do that?”

“Maybe it was a little dirty,” Finn breathed against him, letting go of his shirt and patting his shoulder, “but I think I was gentler than a terrorist, at any rate. You did good to make me have to do that, though.”

No, not the damn praise again! And the way Finn said dirty? He was going to die here. Why did Poe suggest this whole thing? This was a horrible idea with Finn smiling, breathing heavily over him, able to pick him up and move him wherever he wanted, praising him on how good he had done, talking about being _dirty_ \- Poe sat up as soon as he had enough room to do so, trying to catch his breath as his arms rested on his knees. Suddenly, his back stung a whole lot less.

“Need a break?”

Poe shook his head no, despite himself. He didn't want to appear weak – he wasn't even worn out yet as it was – but if his hard on could go away, that'd be great.

A hand appeared in his vision. “Come on, then,” Finn sounded far too resolute right now, “Round three.” With a sigh, groan, and short prayer, he took the offered hand.

* * *

They had been at this for a little over an hour, the sweat practically pouring off of each of them, but Finn couldn't wipe the smile from his face if he tried. It was slow going at first, but once Poe decided to really take this seriously, the entire pace of the sparring changed, making him completely lose track of time. Poe was good, _very_ good at this, but the Prince had yet to win a match. His moves were executed amazingly well, but they were often predictable which hindered him in a lot of ways. However, as time went on, Poe was getting better at the fighting, like he was learning a thing or two in here. If they did this regularly, Finn would be getting very well acquainted with this mat in about a week's time.

And that thought somehow had him smiling broader between matches, completely and totally proud of Poe for being so good at this, for pushing himself further. It was great. And he was always surprising him, too.

Speaking of- Finn twisted himself around by the waist, pushing forwards and down into the ground, bringing Poe to his back again since he refused to let go even as they fell together. For a split second, he almost counted it as another match and set when a leg wrapped around his ribs and back. Shockingly enough, Poe bucked forward and pushed his arms down, spiraling Finn onto his back for the first time since they walked in there. He didn't stay long, though, as Poe's other leg was caught between Finn's. He pressed both palms against the Prince's side and tried to roll them again, sliding his hands up to grab on to the other man's arms so the same couldn't be done back to him. They both fell on their sides instead, before Poe moved his leg away in an attempt to salvage this. But Finn just twisted in their shared grips and rolled them backwards on the path they came.

Now Poe was finally on his back again, arms and legs pinned down. With this new bag of tricks, Finn even pulled back enough so he couldn't be head butted as he smiled down at his opponent, careful to not actually drip sweat onto his face. “That was pretty awesome. You almost had me there for a second.”

Poe's face reddened a bit, no doubt from the exertion. “You and your goddamn thighs of steel,” he muttered beneath his breath.

But Finn caught it and laughed anyway. At the same time, another laugh joined his... He jerked up to face the door, seeing the Queen there with a smile, hands tucked politely behind her back. As he usually did when panicked, Finn assessed the situation. Two sweating men, one of them pinning this woman's fucking nephew down- Yep, that's all the assessment he needed. “Your Majesty!” he yelped, moving back and trying to untangle himself from Poe's limbs.

The Queen waved her hand with a sweet smile. “You're fine, boys,” she chuckled. All the reassurance did was make Finn get off of Poe slightly less frantically, the other man a whole new shade of red now. “Actually,” she continued, “I was just looking around for you Finn. I heard you had requested a private audience with me.”

Oh. Somehow, he thought he would have to wear a suit or something equally as formal and approach her in an office or something. This was... a little more realistic, though. After all, he was going to get to know them all quite well. Still, he was wishing he at least could have gotten a shower in first. “You have time?”

She nodded. “I have time now. If you two were done, that is.”

They were. Finn was about to request that be their last match anyway. A glance to Poe looking harried and out of breath made the decision for him, and he nodded up at her.

“Good,” she answered before he could correct himself – _You don't nod at the Queen!_ – then waved for him to follow. “Come on, let's walk and leave Poe to get in a cold shower.”

Well, being able to speak with her privately was a lot easier than he thought it would have been. He gave a relieved smile and finally managed to stand, offering a helping hand to Poe. The Prince took it, though he was currently bright red as he got to his feet. Finn began to wonder if that was really all from exertion... Either way, he patted him on the arm. “I'll be back. Don't break your neck in the shower while I'm gone.”

“Ha ha,” Poe sarcastically answered back, but didn't hesitate to fetch one of the towels they left on the bench either.

Finn grabbed one for himself to at least dab away some of the sweat while speaking to the freaking Queen. It was obvious she was doing what she could to make him comfortable here, and he really did appreciate her for it but just couldn't shake that touch of formality around here. Where as Poe was just Poe, Leia was Queen Leia Organa and no one would be dared to forget that.

Still, if she wanted a walk among friends, he respected her enough to give her that without question. Finn fell into step alongside her as they exited the gym, wrapping the towel around the back of his neck.

Before he could immediately get to the point of the matter, the Queen just started with easy conversation. “You two seem to be getting along well.”

He couldn't argue that. Finn smiled down at the marbled floor as they walked back into the world of leisure that the palace offered. “Yeah. We've done a lot of talking... He wants to go to the funeral tomorrow.”

He knew she was already aware even as he brought it up, but she nodded anyway. “I'm not surprised. If you weren't here, he would have gone without telling a soul. Your position is already paying off.”

Finn blinked. “If you knew he'd go anyway, then why lock him down here?”

“That was the Royal Guard's request, not mine. Though, I did see the logic of it. He's just not like that. Too much of his father in him.” She sighed then, bits of memories seeming to weigh on her. “Still, I didn't refute the order because it was a good idea. I thought after being practically held at gunpoint, he wouldn't want to go out again so soon. My mistake. I should have known better... At any rate, they've heightened security there, as I'm sure you're well aware. Every building along the procession line is being swept today, including the church.”

That didn't make him feel any safer. The hotel had been swept by the same people, and now they all knew that Poe planned to be there. _If everyone's watching the funeral, and I'm not there, then no one's watching me._ Finn internally groaned at himself for giving in to that speech, but he wouldn't take it back now even if he could. “Nothing will happen,” he said with a feigned confidence he was perfecting around her lately, “and if something does, then nothing will happen to you two.”

The Queen gave a humorless laugh. “Be careful. You're starting to sound like a true bodyguard now.” He laughed, too, trying to figure out if he should feel pride or not. “Which reminds me,” she continued on, “what did you want to speak to me about?”

Ah, right. He straightened his back a little, wanting to look as serious as he felt about this. “I understand that I'm my own unit now, but I didn't want to move forward with this without telling you, and I don't feel comfortable telling anyone in the Guard just yet.” Her eyebrow raised, but the Queen stayed silent otherwise. “I need a line of succession for my position. A replacement if something happens to me.” She tilted back her head as if surprised, but her eyes showed none of that. Since she still didn't speak, he added, “It needs to be in place as soon as possible. Someone that can be nearby at all times, someone trusted beyond a doubt-”

“Did you tell Poe?”

His mouth snapped shut. “No.”

The Queen nodded, looking straight ahead. “You plan to die on this job?”

He frowned, brows furrowing. “It's not part of the five year plan, no. I just want things in place just in case-”

“That's not what I meant,” she continued, ignoring his answer, “Are you prepared to die on this job?”

Finn knew what she was getting at, what she was really digging out of him, if he really knew what _dying_ actually meant. Not a shot to the arm or a kick to the ribs. Ultimate loyalty. Ultimate sacrifice. To stand still while being burned alive if it meant Poe would be unharmed. A few days ago, he would have stuttered through an answer. “Isn't that what the job is?” he stopped walking and spoke clearly, seriously, almost offended, “The only way anyone's getting to Poe is to get through me.”

She stopped as well and looked back to him, face unreadable despite the small hint of amusement playing on her lips. Finn didn't know what to do with that except remain impassive, until she sighed again and closed her eyes. “We'll meet again the day after tomorrow. I'll have a list of names for you to choose from. For now, this stays between us.” When she opened her eyes again, Finn nodded.

The Queen smiled again and turned away. “Now go clean up. Tomorrow's a big day.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A longer chapter than usual, but it doesn't cover nearly as much of the storyline. Still, it's cute. Anyway, a lot more will be going on in the next chapter, including us FINALLY running into another character.
> 
> Thank you all for reading!


	5. Chapter 5

The only sound running through the cobble stoned street, perhaps through the entire city, was the funeral march of the snare drums. The Royal Guard in their dress blues paced before them in the overcast weather, one step and one rest at a time, the long drum line leading the procession. Between the beats and rolls, the only sound was the wind pulling and pushing through the heavy flag waving high above them, the knots of the rope hitting the metal pole occasionally to make an insistent ringing that couldn't be ignored in the silence.

Finn stood on the side of the street as the march passed in front of them, just behind Poe's right shoulder. The Queen, looking as stone faced as ever, stood on the Prince's other side with the Head of the Guard behind her left. He risked a glance to the man in front of him, noting his impassive behavior, too, but there was a seriousness behind his eyes that was threatening to break free. For now, Finn turned his attention back to the march.

He might as well have not bothered to sleep the night before, considering he had no idea when he actually woke up that morning. Somewhere between two and four a.m. or something. Really, there wasn't much he _had_ to do. He could have left the Guard in charge of everything. But the Guard wasn't living and breathing for the sole purpose of protecting Poe – he was – and as such, he made a thorough check through everything. Detail on everyone involved with sweeping the streets the day before, complete inspection of the motorcade, a solid schedule of everywhere the procession would be at every given minute- He even dared to steal a few members of the Guard for his own purposes, not that he cared terribly much before getting his third cup of coffee.

_It was only after he walked in to the briefing room, pointed at a few men who looked slightly more awake than himself, “You, you, and you. With me,” before he actually figured that he might as well ask the Knight himself if he could do it in the first place. For formality's sake, mostly._

“ _You could give me a heads up before you take a few of my boys, you know,” the old man had told him before Finn opened his mouth but didn't actually bother to look up from his morning paper. “I know you got higher clearance, kid, but don't go start getting cocky already. It hasn't even been a week.”_

“ _Is that a yes or no, sir?” Finn was just ready to get this day over with, if he was being honest with himself._

“ _Depends,” the knight glanced up. “What do you want with them?”_

“ _Two in the crowd, one on the roofs.”_

“ _And you didn't think I was already doing that, why?”_

“ _I knew you were, but they'll be linked to me. Not you.”_

_At that, the knight right out laughed at him. “You're a paranoid kid, I'll give you that,” he shook his head, gray hair standing out just a slight bit more with the perspective shift when he turned back to his coffee. “Take 'em. I don't care. Can't do a damn thing about it anyway. Just let me know next time first.”_

“ _Yes, sir.”_

“ _And stop with the_ sir _shit. I swear, you're the only one in this damn palace who disobeys me with politeness of all things,” the knight grumbled lowly to himself, shaking the paper out to pop it up straight._

_Finn just smirked. “Yes, Han.”_

“ _All right, that's enough out of you,” the old man pointed at him, waving towards the door. “Out. Go. Just don't kidnap more of my boys while you're leaving.”_

“ _Yes, sir.”_

“ _Out!”_

So far, his three very temporary recruits were working out well enough. He had them far enough away with too little information to do any harm if they happened to be turn coat, but they were also in all the right places if they weren't. If any of them let something slip through the cracks purposefully, the Royal Guard would catch it not a second later. Still, Finn felt a little more at ease now that he had his own sets of eyes darted around, all feeding information straight into his ear at any change in the air.

The radio silence had begun when the procession did without so much as static reaching him now. It was so quiet, his only relief from the void of it being the drums and wind.

Slowly, agonizingly slowly, the first flag covered casket appeared in their line of sight, being carried by six members of the Guard as pallbearers as it glided from the crowded streets and row of hearses. Again, Finn was reminded that they weren't the only ones on this sidewalk, though the royal family had been given a wide berth. Family members of the deceased stood on Finn's side, closer to the hearses, but he didn't dare look at them and only hoped the Prince wasn't either right now.

The second and third casket filed out side by side, the fourth and fifth slowly following suit. He risked another glance to Poe again, watching the other man's jaw clench tighter and tighter, before staring ahead again. He wanted to say something, at least offer a hand against his, but nothing could be done right now. True to fact, the entire world was watching. A soft whisper or quick pat on the shoulder could be devastating, not just for the PR. He had to look strong, unmoving, intimidating to anyone watching that would want to harm them. All he could do right now was remain on guard.

But Poe's arm began to shake, the smallest of tremors, when the sixth and seventh coffins appeared. Before it continued or became worse, the Prince took a deep breath and stood up straighter, seeming to look through the parade instead of at it. Finn was willing to settle for that much.

Finally, the voices in his ear cackled to life again. _“Black Leader, clear.”_

Before he could do anything, Han motioned with a jut of his chin, apparently having heard something similar on his end. “Leia.”

The Queen moved forward before even acknowledging the rest of them, Poe falling into step alongside her without so much as a blink. Finn trailed behind with the knight while they joined the procession as a group. He didn't turn to check, but the sound of the families' steps behind them was louder than the echoing drums. _“Oscar Mike,”_ another voice told the rest of the small team, letting them know that things were, so far, going according to plan.

Finn didn't dare speak to the voices in his ear, which they were well aware that he wouldn't be doing unless under duress anyway. He had given them a quick briefing before the day began. Later, maybe he would sit down and wonder where all of this power and confidence was coming from, but the job commanded too much attention right now.

The walk took forever but it only spanned about five blocks before the church loomed over them at the end of the street. Finn, kicking himself belatedly with the thought, realized that he'd never actually seen the inside of this gargantuan building. Well, he figured if something happened in there, which was less likely than their current position, then they'd have to play it by ear again. He bit his cheek, resolving to do better next time.

The drum line stopped their march, moving to the sides of the opening doors at parade rest as the pallbearers passed. Once inside, Finn would technically be on his own. The service would be a different story, but the only people allowed in for the wake were themselves and the families. No news crew, no well-meaning citizens, not even the rest of the Guard. It was meant to be a show of peace and respect, but Finn's growing paranoia keyed up anyway as they passed under the threshold. _“Black Leader, out of visual.”_ It's partly a good thing, Finn reminded himself. Not all bad.

Poe stepped aside, moving away from the Queen, to let the families pass him by. It wasn't really part of the plan, but Finn didn't comment and just followed him anyway, noticing Leia and Han do the same on the other side of the hall. Whether it was customary or they just played along, he wasn't sure. Probably the latter.

A young woman, perhaps a few years older than them, stopped in front of Poe. With tear stained cheeks and no offered words, she took his hand and bowed low. A wife, maybe, or a sister. Either way, she straightened up again with a nod to him and continued down the aisle. Poe remained steady as everyone slowly began to stop in front of him with a bow, sometimes taking his hand in theirs, sometimes speaking in whispers, sometimes just sobbing. Young, old, children, parents, spouses, siblings. Internally, Finn found himself waiting for it, but none of them showed any hints of aggression towards Poe. No resentment, no rage, just eyes filled with sorrow and pity.

“I'm sorry, child,” an older woman told him, speaking up over the harsh quiet of the church. When she bowed, it looked to be with some effort to bend at all, but the way she took his hand didn't suggest she looked for support for herself. “They were good men,” she said, rising slowly again and putting her other hand over his, “They died for us all.”

Poe said nothing, betrayed nothing in his features, but Finn saw his hand grip hers so tight that it began to shake again.

* * *

The funeral was long, and the ride back in the motorcade was silent. Nothing happened, but the small victory didn't make Finn feel any better about the day. Instead of relieving the men he took into his position, he waved for them to wait in the marbled halls as he quietly followed the Prince.

Neither spoke until the staircase came into view. At that point, Finn couldn't take it anymore. “Poe-”

“Don't,” the other answered him quietly. “I'm all right. Funeral's just suck.”

“Yeah,” he sighed.

“If I wasn't exhausted right now,” Poe continued, “I'd ask if you were up for sparring.”

That, at least, made Finn smile for some reason. Maybe it was the ease of the conversation, or maybe it was proof that he'd be able to help with this in some small way later. “We'll tear it up tomorrow... or whenever you want.”

Poe let out a quiet laugh at that, a little bit of light coming back to his features. “I'll take you up on that. For now... I think I want to sleep forever.”

Sleep was more than likely code for wanting to be alone, and Finn more than understood that. It still kind of sucked, though. He wanted to help. He was right beside Poe the whole time, useless out there, but he nodded anyway. “Go ahead, Sleeping Beauty. I'll handle everything else.”

“You're a dream, Finn,” he mumbled beneath his breath, climbing the staircase alone. At least BB would be there with him...

He headed back to finally relieve the poor men he had pulled from duty and speak with the old knight before he vanished, too. For all intents and purposes, everything carried on without a hitch, but he wanted to make absolutely sure that was the case. He also told the kitchens to bring Poe dinner if he didn't arrive at least an hour after it was usually served. The Prince probably wouldn't appreciate it, but it was worth it just in case he did.

Still, after everything that the day brought him, including way too early of a morning, something told Finn that he should stay up that night. And he did, an energy drink in one hand as he sat on the bed of his slightly used room, staring at his door in the dark. He waited, watching, listening, somehow not falling asleep in place. After the funeral, with everything being well into the night, the world was silent in the palace. At times, he even wondered if he was just dreaming about being awake.

Soon enough, not even thirty minutes after he took up his vigil, a groan of wood and stone softly found his ears, so quiet that he could almost place it as an act of his imagination. Finn waited five minutes before standing and making his way to the mantle, pushing a certain stone that made the false wall turn beneath his hands and silently entered the passage ways.

Approaching Poe and flat out dragging him back to his quarters wasn't going to fix the sneaking out issue. He understood why the Prince was doing it, but he needed to know how it made things seem even a little bit better.

He followed Poe's path all the way to the garages, only realizing he had definitely taken the right course when he emerged to find one of the parking spaces empty. Anticipating this beforehand, he got in the car of the keys he had lifted about an hour earlier and made his way out of the garage, too.

It wasn't easy following Poe. The only thing that had him catching up at all was the tracker on the other car, as all the vehicles had. The Prince knew that, of course, so he definitely planned to return well before sunrise. He also surely knew that someone in the palace realized that one of their cars had up and left, likely while they watched. So either Poe made up some horrible excuse of a lie or they let him go out tonight. Both thoughts sucked, but Finn just groaned to himself instead as he followed along, being good to take different turns so the Prince would hopefully not realize he was being tailed.

But when Finn had arrived at what the tracker claimed to be the destination, he was sure that Poe had caught on at some point. He expected a bar or a club, maybe even back to the church. This was-... It looked like an airfield...

Wary that there may be a trap inside one of the hangars just waiting for him, Finn took a service road along the outskirts of the property after killing the headlights, parking it up just outside of the tarmacs. The place looked old, but kept up...

Finn began to wonder if this really was the right place. Maybe this was a dive or rave or some bullshit like that. Maybe the Crown's best kept secret was Poe's drug habit or something. He looked out of the rear view mirror, seeing someone walk alongside one of the hangars who was shorter in stature than Poe before they stopped at the wide doors along the front. He groaned tiredly, patting himself down to make sure that his firearm was definitely still there, before getting out of the car.

The hangar was much too far for him to make out anything this person was doing or even what they looked like, but it also served as the perfect cover for him against the darkness. No one would see him out here, thankfully, but he still felt too far away. Yet, Finn wasn't actually worried as the figure began to open the large doors, rolling them to the side. For some reason, Poe sought out refuge here after today- after this whole week.

When the figure stepped far enough aside, a small jet plane began carting out of the hangar, and everything suddenly fell into place. _My mother was Shara Bey, a pilot in the Armed Forces who came to serve under The Royal Guard._ Finn groaned for the hundredth time that night and sipped at the energy drink he brought along, sliding on top of the car's hood for a seat. Someone at the damn Guard knew about this. Han _definitely_ knew. He had to. Finn grumbled lowly as he took another sip, eyes not leaving the plane.

He tucked his feet beneath his legs, as the jet coasted forward and turned to face the tarmac that Finn had a great view of. With a blast of acceleration, the plane zoomed pass him before leaving the Earth and sailing into the star filled sky.

Finn waited there the entire hour and forty-five minutes it took for Poe to touch down again, before sliding to the ground and getting back in the car.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apparently, dialogue is for losers. But don't worry, there'll be way more talk next chapter. And, as opposed to the last chapter, this one is actually shorter than usual. Oops.


	6. Chapter 6

If Finn hadn't been there with him the whole time, Poe was pretty sure he probably would have broken down in some fashion. Then again, maybe not. There was an image to maintain, especially right now. He had to look strong for his people. But-... But, no one should have to die for him. It was so stupid. He wasn't special. He was human, just like them. It wasn't fair.

Whenever a moment of weakness passed over him, he would remember that Finn was by his side, just out of sight. If he focused hard enough, he could feel the other man's body heat from their close proximity, like his guard purposely moved closer into his space just to lend support. It helped. It helped _so much_ that it almost frightened him, but Poe pushed the thought down. It's a funeral. He's allowed to be a little out of his mind for it.

The Prince scratched at the back of his head as he heaved a heavy sigh, walking quietly down a gilded hidden passage towards the kitchens. He hadn't eaten dinner. They even brought food to his room, and he still hadn't eaten. It was finally catching up to him. _Finally._ At least he had an appetite again after the flight. Being alone did nothing to help his lingering thoughts, but flying did. Flying always did. It reminded him of his mother, allowed him to be closer to her again in some strange, spiritual way. She never provided answers or advice, but he could still feel something that resembled her presence and that was enough. Just like Finn's presence was enough.

He shook his head to free the thoughts and opened the door to the dark room. Poe began to walk to the nearest light switch, when he heard a _click_ and the room lit up on it's own.

_Oh, fuck._

“Hey there, buddy.” The Prince's eyes – as the rest of him was still very much frozen in shock – darted over to Finn. His guard was on a bar stool, leaning back against the wall across the room near another switch. He was also chewing a french fry, as evidenced by the display of fast food sitting on the counter next to him. “How's it hanging?”

Well, he didn't seem pissed. Maybe he still didn't know? Maybe Finn was just too exhausted to notice? “Hey,” Poe attempted a smile, “You still up, huh?”

“Yeah. Hard to sleep after a long day. You know how it is.” The guardsman gave an innocent grin, picking up another fry and just twirling it in his fingers. “So, you hungry? Since you're just getting in and all, I thought you might be.”

Shit. “Look, it's not- I didn't go far, okay?”

Finn, still somehow just as beautiful as always with the kitchen lights bouncing off of his skin, stared at him unnervingly for a second. “I guess a few miles above sea level isn't that far, when you think about it.”

Poe stared back at him, stunned, just standing there in the large kitchen, trying and failing to force his brain to catch up. “You-... What?”

The guardsman gave a second for the silence to pass between them. “You want a cheeseburger? I bought you a cheeseburger.”

“Finn!” The Prince's fingers dug into his hair. “How did you-? When-? Finn, how-? How did-? What?” How in the hell did he know about that? He made sure he hadn't been followed! Made sure that Finn was off on his own! Made sure everything was perfect for him to leave! How did-

“ _Cheeeeesebuuurgeeer_ ,” Finn told him again, slower this time, like Poe just wasn't catching on about the damn food of all things. “I almost got us some milkshakes, too, but I couldn't decide between chocolate or vanilla, so I just didn't-”

“ _Finn!”_

“You're right, that's not important,” he waved back at the Prince. “What is important is that I stopped by Five Guys on the way back from the airfield, and the longer you stand there like a fish out of water, the colder your burger gets. Hope you like pickles and onions.”

Poe couldn't do anything except stare at his guard. Finn had followed him. He followed him all the way to the airfield and managed to get back before him. Also, the Prince noted, he didn't seem angry. But it was probably just way too long of a day to waste energy on being mad at this hour.

He didn't know what to do in order to keep his baby, this pastime that felt like the only thing that could free him from this stupid world. But it wasn't that he- Finn was _Finn_. He was perfect. He'd understand. Right?

The Prince dropped his hands, hung his head, and walked closer to his guard, grabbing a bar stool and dragging it over with him. He was too tired to be scared and nervous. Hunger outweighed the rest of his problems right now. So Poe situated the chair and sat in front of the counter, poking at a french fry and nibbling on it.

Finn seemed to smile, pleased at something in his head, before waving his hand again. “Man, don't look so upset. I'm not taking your toy.”

_Toy_ would have gotten him annoyed on any other day. Tonight, he just lifted his head, filled with hope. “Really?”

“As long as I can get a few boys from the Guard to check it out, that is,” Finn requested softly but seriously, “and I want to check out that friend of yours over there.”

“... Are you going to make this into a bureaucratic nightmare?”

His guard laughed. “No. No. I just want to make sure it's safe, that's all. The guys I'll get to check your plane out are going to be some of the older ones. They won't gossip about your little secret.”

At that, he straightened up in astonishment, whispering out, “We can keep it a secret?”

“So long as it's safe,” Finn reminded him. “I don't see why not, otherwise. I mean... I get it, man. Really. I know you might not like me invading in all of that-”

_Not like it?_ He would have brought Finn there on his first day if he was absolutely certain the man wouldn't rat him out. Poe definitely wanted to include him, without a doubt. It was special and quiet and _away_. “No! No. I mean- No. That's fine. I don't mind... Well, I do my own repairs on the jet, so I do mind someone looking over my baby, but if it'll ease your mind-”

“It will,” Finn smiled to him, almost looking half impressed. Damn, he had already forgotten how great that smile could be. Then that beautiful man shook his head, reaching into the fast food bag for a burger. “But that's later. Now, we eat. Then we sleep for the next century.”

Poe chuckled at the idea, eager to make it happen, as he finally reached for his own food. Man, how long had it been since he had a damn cheeseburger? Finn really was a dream. “Thank you so much,” he muttered to him, taking a huge bite as his guard waved away his thanks. At this point, Poe was glad he didn't eat the dinner brought to him a few hours ago. Though, the kitchens never bothered to do that for him before. Well, they hadn't in years, at least. Maybe when he was young and sick or something. Though, he worked so hard to not seem so vulnerable at the funeral.

He swallowed his bite and glanced to Finn with a furrowed brow. Beautiful Finn, who knew him well enough to follow him out that night, who had connected the dots so easily. Brilliant Finn. “You told them to bring me dinner.”

His guard glanced up to him, a little of his confidence suddenly falling away into shock. “Is that bad?”

Poe just smiled at him, “No,” and took another bite.

Beautiful, brilliant Finn who supported and cared for him flashed a big smile to him. Something warm bloomed from his chest, and the Prince looked to the floor to hide his ridiculous grin.

* * *

Finn wished he could have slept for the next century. It would have been nice, but the realization that he'd never again be able to sleep in was slowly dawning on him. Well, unless retirement was involved... That was a laughable thought.

He rose early that morning since word came to him that the Queen wanted to see him bright and early, likely about what they had discussed a couple of days ago. Getting that out of the way was well worth rising with the sun.

But then his good mood was dampened when he caught sight of the old knight leaning against a gold-trim oak table, obviously waiting just for him seeing as how he was the only that had to walk down this particular hall to see the Queen. Of course, Han knew about that, too. It wasn't like he didn't like the man – Finn held an immense amount of respect for Sir Han Solo – but he would appreciate it if information about his objective wasn't constantly being withheld from him for no good reason.

Han glanced up to him, pushing off of the table and following alongside Finn. “Morning.”

“Morning, s- Han.” As much as Finn wanted to get straight into it, he really didn't know how to begin, so he just continued on his walk to the meeting.

“You did good last night, kid.”

Oh. “What?”

“Last night,” Han repeated, looking over to him. “You did good.”

Okay. The dam broke. “What do you-? You knew he snuck out last night. You knew about the flying thing.”

“Yep.”

“Why didn't-?” He was about to ask _Why didn't you stop him?_ , but it was probably the same reason that Finn hadn't. “Why didn't you just tell me?”

“Well, you're new. Or did you forget that already, big deal?” The knight looked at him pointedly, but there was no malice in his features. “I wanted to see what you'd do, and you did good... But I gotta ask- Did you really go by a drive-thru on the way back? You're getting milkshakes on taxpayer's money now?”

Finn shrugged. “Well, I was out anyway, wasn't I?” he answered back nonchalantly. For some reason, he didn't want to tell him that he got a little piece of comfort food just to make sure Poe would eat something, didn't want to talk about the small conversation they had where nothing of importance was spoken. The moment felt private to him. “Maybe if _someone_ told me that Poe sneaks out to the airfield so he can fly an aluminum tin can that was eighty-five percent rocket fuel and propelled him at almost two thousand miles per hour, I probably wouldn't have needed a milkshake. Just thank me for not stopping at a bar and getting smashed, seriously.”

“Oh, please.” Han opened to door to the room they were both headed to, a lavish office with a desk at the far end and no other visible entrances, as well as no other occupants. “We all know what you were really doing.”

“What was I-?”

“He hadn't eaten all damn day.” Han let the door close behind them and folded his arms over his chest, giving the younger man a searching look. At some point, sincerity fell through. “I'm serious, kid. You did good.”

Finn blinked up at him, taken aback for a second. “I-... Thank you.”

“Oh, don't start getting sentimental.”

With a groan of stone on stone, a wall beside them twisted open, revealing the Queen with a small stack of files in her hand as she glanced up to them. “Gentlemen.”

“Your Majesty,” Finn greeted.

“Hhn,” the knight grunted.

“Come here, Han,” she said, waving the files towards him as she approached the desk. “These are your people. Let's go.”

“It's not _my_ decision, Leia. It's the kid's,” the knight grumbled, following her direction, anyway. Finn just... stared. Yesterday, he hadn't had a chance to really notice, but the two of them had a less than formal relationship that was almost heartwarming in the comfort of it. It reminded him of himself and Poe, and Finn couldn't help but wonder if they'd be just like this in thirty years time. It was such a weird thing to want.

“Where's Poe?” the Queen asked him as she sat in the leather chair behind the desk. Han fell into one of the chairs across from her, muttering lowly as he glanced through the files.

Finally, Finn approached them, wanting to pick his perfect replacement as soon as possible. “Unconscious, ma'am.” Might as well get comfortable with them. He felt odd trying to be so formal in a setting like this.

She smiled, while the knight tossed one of the files to the floor with a _thud_. “Shouldn't you be unconscious, too?”

“If only, your Majesty,” he mumbled, only half meaning it, as he took a file that Han offered over.

Eventually, he had his files in hand, the list of the entire Royal Guard narrowed to only three names. He didn't know if he should feel terrified that only three had passed the crown's trust exercises or deeply honored that he had done so already.

The first file was of an older man with a significant military background and years of experience with being a personal bodyguard for several individuals. He was great, but the term _stick up his ass_ floated to the front of Finn's mind, so he looked at the next one. Contestant number two also had a little over ten years military background and had been with the Guard for three more, but anything resembling a personality section of his file was absolutely blank. Finn moved on. Number three was someone close to his own age, about five years of military service and a year with the Guard. The only female out of the bunch, she enjoyed sports, fitness, etc. and had a degree in Political Science. “What about this one?” he raised to file to Han's eye level as he glanced back at the other two, only just now realizing that they had quietly been waiting on him.

The old knight let out a silent laugh, like he'd just won a bet on who would be picked. “Good kid. Serious. I guess she's paranoid like you, but pretty smart to boot.” Finn let out a sarcastic _ha_ , before Han continued. “She can take apart anything and put it back together. And she can wipe the floor with any man, woman, or child in this place. Good under stress. Thinks on her feet if she has to. Kind of a loner, though. A quiet kid. Doesn't talk too much.”

“Poe can do enough talking for two people when he wants to,” Finn mumbled quietly as he read through her file again, only realizing he just said that out loud when the Queen started laughing.

Han didn't give him enough time to turn red from embarrassment, though. He just smiled back at him. “So, is she the lucky winner or what?”

“Um-” Right. Work. Right, right. Sometimes, Finn wondered if he and Poe were getting too comfortable with one another, if they've already passed the point. As usual, he pushed the thought down and finally forced himself to read what was in front of him. “I'd like to meet her first. Can I do that?”

“Sure,” the knight shrugged. “She doesn't know about any of this, though. None of them do.”

Finally, the Queen spoke up again with a little smile. “This entire thing is at your discretion, Finn. Do what you want with them. Take as much time as you like.”

He didn't want to waste time. Assassins were out there. There had to be a stand-in if something happened to him. Poe would _not_ fall with him. He wouldn't be like Dameron. “I want to talk to her,” he said, flipping back to the front of her file for a name. _Rey._

* * *

She squinted at him against the light of the sun, like she was trying to place his face. “You're-... Aren't you the Prince's personal bodyguard?”

“Why do you ask?” Finn smiled. The old knight had called her out on the stone banistered balcony, and she still looked shocked to only find him.

“Yesterday, you were at the funeral procession,” she answered like it was obvious. “Wait. Where's-?”

“Actually,” he sighed, tucking his hands in his pockets. “I wanted to talk to you. Han's not coming.”

“Han,” she repeated like it was blasphemy to be so informal. Well... it kind of felt like it was sometimes. Rey squinted at him again. “Why?”

His goal was to act extremely nonchalant about this, like it wasn't a big deal. First of all, he didn't want her panicking. Second, he didn't want her to feel like she didn't have a choice. “I looked through your file, and I guess you could say I need a second-in-command as of sorts.”

Her eyes widened at the idea. “What?”

“Well,” he sighed, leaning against the rails of the encroaching flower gardens. “It's not exactly like that. You wouldn't be starting right away-” _Hopefully._ “-and I was wanting to get to know you before really making a final decision.”

She stared at him, stunned while dressed in her blue uniform. Meanwhile, poor Finn just barely managed to put on jeans that morning. “You- Surely, I'm not as qualified as-”

“Han chose a few people, and I decided on you out of that pile,” he quickly explained, not wanting to argue about qualifications. He was the poster child for that.

Still, she stared at him... and blinked. “The Prince needs more bodyguards.”

Finn could have laughed, but he just shook his head with a grin. “I'd love to have a team suffocating Poe all the time, trust me, but the Queen and Han don't want that. Not to mention Poe's opinion, but whatever. What I'm saying is, there'll be only one assigned to him at a time.”

Rey gaped at him. “Did you just call the Crown Prince and Heir, _Poe_.” Finn shrugged. “My God- How long have you been doing this?”

He blinked. “What day is it?”

“What?”

“Nothing. Look, I'm-” Finn shook his head, trying desperately to clear it. Maybe he needed more sleep. “I really just wanted to talk to you and see if you were interested. That's all.”

“I-” Rey blinked at him a few times, gears turning wildly behind her eyes. “What would be my duties as second-in-command?”

Ay, there's the rub. Finn frowned, turning serious. “Like I said, it wouldn't be an immediate position, but I'll need whoever I choose to be on stand-by around the clock, no matter what. No vacation, no traveling unless it's with the Prince, and very little boundaries for personal space when we need you with us.” He sighed. “Basically, if I die at any point while on duty, I need someone to immediately take my place. Someone in the background that wouldn't be expected to jump in and kick ass, you get it? But if I do die or get incapacitated on the job, then it's already going to be a tense situation unless it was an accident. You have to be prepared for anything... Do you know what I mean when I say that?”

She blinked at him again. “That's a lot at once.”

“I can give you a couple of days to think it over.”

“No... I'll do it. I'm in.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poe's got it so bad. I love writing both of them for all the differences between characters. Also, Rey is finally here!
> 
> By the way, I really wanted to thank you guys for all the support. It's been really awesome and sweet. Thank you. ♥


	7. Chapter 7

The wind ripped into a flag high over head, but Poe didn't see it. He just knew that was the source of the sound, the strong tug and whip against heavy fabric, the metal latches striking against the steel pole. It was the only sound in the still streets filled with mourners, the sky above a bright gray which painted the rest of the world in a dreary contrast.

One by one, pallbearers marched with casket after casket in their arms, each of them with the same flag thrown across them to make it seem like it was a little better than what the scene really was. One, three, five, seven. Then nine, eleven, thirteen- They were staring a him. Members of his own guard passed before him, carrying the bodies of their fallen in gilded boxes, staring at him with no emotion. Were they proud of their comrades? Did they hate him? Did they blame him? Did they wish to be next, to die such an honorable death? They didn't answer. Just kept moving as if to say, _Do you see what you've done? Do you know this is your fault?_

_But it's not_ , he wanted to say, maybe scream, _It's the traitor. There's a traitor. It's their fault, not mine. I wasn't even there. I didn't kill them. It's not my fault. I didn't do this. It wasn't because of me. They didn't die for me._

His voice – the air – stuck in his throat, trapped, like it was just wrong to speak, like the silence shouldn't be broken. Twenty-one, twenty-three, twenty-five. He turned sharply, searching for Finn by his side.

Poe woke with a jolt, staring up at the ceiling of his suite. A dream. Only a dream, which was already fading. He remembered turning to his side so quickly that he must have felt a sense of falling. Whatever else that was involved that had his heart racing and lungs gasping for air, he didn't want to know.

The Prince scrubbed hard at his face as he sat up, spotting a sliver of sunlight pouring in between his heavy curtains. With any luck, perhaps it was still considered morning. He's not terribly surprised someone didn't wake him, though. The palace was supposed to be in a state of mourning still, and he was sure as hell going to use the extra hours to his advantage. Since sleep probably wouldn't come back to him now anyway, perhaps he should see if Finn was already awake and willing to make good on that promise of sparring again.

A jingling pile of fluff hopped onto his bed, bouncing over the mounds of comforters and sheets to make her way to Poe. “Morning, BB,” he answered her between a yawn, reaching a hand to scratch between her ears, “How you doing?”

She responded by throwing her paws to his chest and peppering him in licks against his jaw. “All right,” he chuckled, falling back into his bed by the vicious attack, “You're doing pretty good. I get it.”

Seeming to be satisfied, BB collapsed over his outstretched arm and chest, huffing a breath by his ear.

It was a nice morning to just lay around for once, but he still wanted to go find Finn and get rid of some of that pint up energy he had from the day before. Even flying couldn't save him from that. However, they had spent over an hour in the gym together before, and Poe couldn't do a damn thing against his guard. Maybe that was technically a good thing, he supposed, but he didn't want to be the freaking damsel in distress someday either. He had to beat Finn today. He just didn't know how, especially since he hadn't been back to the gym since their last round of matches.

He tried to imagine it. Finn was very smart, but not completely unpredictable from someone who knew him. If Poe attacked, his guard would just wait for an inevitably stupid move and take him down. Like when he held him up by his damn leg the other day. That could have gone differently. If Poe had grabbed Finn's fist and _rushed him_ instead of trying to kick at him, it could have been a different outcome.

The Prince frowned in thought, already seeing the error of that move. Finn would have danced back as far as his caught arm would allow, forcing Poe further into his own territory and even more off balance. It would have been as simple as pulling the arm that was supposed to be trapped in the Prince's grip towards himself, trapping his attacker instead. But Poe's stubborn, he still wouldn't have let go of the arm and the small advantage he had, but there would have been no chance to attack. Even now, he was thinking of what he could do through Finn's defenses and almost every idea kept getting shot down. His guard would have gripped his free hand on his waist, hoping to tumble him down. But he wouldn't be able to, Poe would see the chance coming and he would have distributed his weight towards the hand since both of his feet were still planted.

But Finn was so strong, stronger than him. The extra weight against him would ensure that he couldn't slam Poe down into the mat, so he would have just picked him up instead, twirling them around and pinning him to a wall. Against his back, out of bounds, technically a loss that Poe could do nothing about with the body pressed against him. And Finn would smile and laugh and tell him how good he had done, his breath ghosting across the Prince's neck, hand gently gliding up his ribs.

Poe shot up in bed again, scaring the dog. “I need a shower,” he muttered to no one, trying to untangle himself from the sheets and nearly sprinting for the bathroom.

* * *

Maybe sparring wouldn't be such a good idea after all, he resolved after leaving the shower. Just the thought made more stress than there already was. But he had done plenty of chastising himself while under the raining ice during his bathing. Now, he just promised himself to never think about that or anything remotely like that again. Ever. And to forget he ever thought about it in the first place as well.

And yet, despite every internal protest he had just moments ago, his heart leapt when he spotted Finn walking down their shared hallways.

But he wasn't the first speak. His guard's beautiful smile reappeared when he saw him, too, and the act of speaking became too much of a dilemma. “And he rises,” Finn laughed, turning to fall in step beside him, “I was actually coming to see if you were still breathing.”

“Aw, how sweet,” Poe smiled back, laying on the sickeningly sweet sarcasm, “How long have you been up?”

Finn shrugged. “An hour, maybe more. Not that long really.” The Prince didn't know if he was telling the truth or not, but chose to believe him anyway. “To be totally honest, I was wondering if you wanted breakfast.”

He did, very much so. “Yeah, but-” Poe gave himself one second of an internal debate or perhaps even a second chance to shut his mouth “-I was actually wondering if you wanted to try sparing again. We can eat first, or however you want. If you have time.” He tacked on the last bit, forgetting momentarily that Finn was currently working.

Yes. Working. Even now as he gave back a big, happy grin, like he was just asked if he wanted to go on a field trip. “I'd love to. Let's eat after, okay?”

“Deal.” This was stupid. The freaking stupidest thing Poe could even think of doing, and nothing in this world was going to make him take back their arrangements. So, of course, he changed the subject. “By the way, about my plane...”

Finn laughed like he expected the conversation. “I planned to take some guys out there this evening. You can come with if you want, fuss to them over every little thing, you know.”

“Oh, you better believe I'll be fussing,” he mumbled back, not entirely looking forward to that part.

“Did you mean it when you said you made your own repairs and everything?” his guard asked, not really waiting for an answer. “I shouldn't have really been surprised, I guess. You seem like a go big or go home kind of guy.”

Why did everything suddenly start sounding like an innuendo now? Poe smiled at the floor, hoping to hide the blush he felt. “Yeah, I meant it. That jet is basically my sweetheart. I know it better than the back of my hand.” Maybe that was a bit bad to admit that he was pretty obsessed with it.

Finn didn't seem deterred, though. In fact, he just gave him that damn smile again, like he was so freaking proud of every breath Poe took. “That's amazing. I can't wait to watch you gush over it. Seriously, though, that's really cool.”

Damn him. Damn his jet. Damn the sparring. “It's nothing,” he smiled at the floor some more, dammit. “I mean, I kind of grew up around planes, you know?”

“Really?”

When Poe looked back up, Finn's face told him that he actually hadn't known that. And here the Prince was starting to think the man was psychic. Then again, the past was the past, and stuff like that was infinitely more private. Maybe it was less that Finn didn't look into it as it was that he didn't want to invade. That sounded more like the perfect man beside him. And yet, he found himself speaking before his brain could filter anything. “Yeah. I mean, mom stopped piloting for a living, but she never stopped doing it for fun. She showed me everything I know, was with me on my first flight, walked me through repairs and blueprints, everything.” Finn's eyes were so full with happiness and awe, that Poe just didn't really bother stopping. “Since she died, no one else has really replaced that presence, you know? I mean, I've met a few other pilots since then, but no one that knew more than mom. No one that really ever came close. Once she was gone, it was pretty much just... me.”

He had stopped walking, only just now realizing it, only just beginning to realize all the confessions he really did just give up. Poe was about to apologize for the random mood dampener, when Finn asked, “How old were you?”

The Prince swallowed his previous words. “Six,” he answered instead. “It was cancer. Happened fast. Found too late and it took her quick.” And why was he even saying that? Finn probably knew that much, just like the rest of the general public. And even if he didn't, why was he speaking about it to him anyway?

“I'm sorry.”

But the words, the sincerity of them, the look of pain and sorrow on the other man's face, made Poe give a bland smile and shake his head. “Please. I live in a palace, man. People got it worse.”

“I lost my mother, too,” Finn continued.

Poe's heart stopped at the mention. “I- I'm-”

“It's all right,” he shook his head, a small yet genuine smile playing on his features. “I'm just saying-... Palace or not, it's all the same. I get it. And I meant it.” The Prince stared at him, blinking occasionally, so Finn just laughed at him. “Come on, I'm starving. The sooner we beat the hell out of each other, the sooner we can eat.”

Poe watched him lead before finally following after his guard on autopilot. Suddenly, he felt incredibly spoiled and selfish, the likes of which were so overbearing that he wanted to turn tail and hide. Of all their talks, all his fantasies, he knew _nothing_ about Finn, never even bothered to ask. It made him feel hollow.

How did one even begin that conversation? How was he supposed to fix that?

It took him about thirty minutes to realize that they weren't really sparring this time, not like they were before. Maybe it started out that way, but Finn changed stances, changed his form, didn't smile as much. He was letting Poe go at him, letting him take his frustrations out on his guardsman. Finn still never lost a match, but he wasn't really fighting either. Neither was Poe, if he were being honest with himself. He wasn't thinking moves through or even trying to focus. He was just letting his frustrations get the best of him, and Finn was using himself as a conduit for all the rage.

And it took him thirty fucking minutes to even notice.

Poe shook his head, making himself come back to the present, back to Finn. “You come at me,” he said through gulps of air, waving for his guard. “You're letting me use you as a punching bag, and I'm still getting my ass kicked. Come on.”

With the truth out there, Finn gave a tiny smile before doing as told and rushing him, not allowing Poe a moment's thought on where the grin had even come from. It didn't matter. His guardsman was fighting like he had before, and everything felt right again, like nothing else existed. No assassins, no crown, no prince, no bodyguard. Just him and Finn. Smiling, laughing, beautiful, brilliant, _perfect_ -

The air left Poe's lungs when he connected with the mat again, wrecking his train of thought.

Finn laughed over him. “You all right? I think I went too hard.”

Damn innuendos. Poe just nodded. “You didn't. I'm all right.”

The other man patted his side with that big smile of his. “That was awesome. You're going to ruin me, if you keep this up.” Maybe it wasn't exactly like his daydream from before but it was better. It wasn't as sexual, not just two bodies against one another. It was _Finn_. A warmth exploded from his chest as he watched that smile, enveloping every part of him. He dared to wonder if Finn ever shamelessly felt the same.

Then the door opened, and the real world crashed back in. Finn didn't feel the same. He knew as the other man looked away from him to see whoever had entered. Poe knew that he wouldn't ever feel the same, that he shouldn't be feeling like this in the first place. He was Finn's job. That's all. None of it was real, even their late night conversation, even when Finn allowed him to vent his problems. It was all just the job.

Poe chastised himself again. He didn't feel like that for Finn, either. He just needed someone with all of the stress lately, a connection somewhere to ground him, and the other man was convenient. It broke his own heart to think it, but it had to be true. The alternative was too stupid at this point.

“Solo wants to see you, Finn,” a young woman in the Guard's uniform addressed, glancing towards Poe slightly as he rose to sit on the mat. “He said it's important.”

“I'm coming,” his guardsman nodded, and the woman turned quickly and left them. At that, Finn's smile came back full force, directing it straight at Poe, nearly knocking the Prince breathless again. “I won't be long, so... breakfast?”

“Breakfast,” he repeated, staring at this man, at that smile. _I don't care if it's stupid. I don't care. I need this. I need him._ “I'll meet you in the kitchens,” Poe grinned back, “Don't let that old man keep you too long.”

Finn laughed and happily pulled them both back up to their feet, slapping the Prince's shoulder as they were finally up right again. “What can I say? I'm popular,” he answered back, turning away while grabbing a towel.

Poe watched him leave, letting the warmth pool through him again, ignoring the rest of the world.

* * *

“What's wrong?” he asked Rey as soon as he made it to the Guard's briefing room. She wouldn't have come and got him if something wasn't wrong. As it was, half of the room was bustling and the other half was dead silent, while the whole thing was way over packed. If that wasn't clue enough-

She jerked her head over to Han, who turned around as soon as he heard Finn's voice. “Come 'ere, kid,” he commanded with hardly a glance.

He nodded to Rey, but left her to walk further into the room, ignoring what few stares he was getting from the others that were present. “Do I have to ask again?”

“Look.” Han pointed to a few of the monitors in front of him, all six showing different angles of the same building. “Some intel paid off, unfortunately. Three people armed with semi-automatic rifles, military issued bulletproof armor, about three million in cocaine-”

“Cocaine?”

“You don't want to know how much heroine they have,” the knight muttered with an eyebrow reaching his hairline. “Anyway, after a few tapped calls and internet stalking, we've found that these guys are some extremists planning to attack the palace at some point. They have bombs, too.”

“Extremists,” Finn repeated to himself in thought. “This isn't the same people from the hotel.”

Han shook his head. “Absolutely not. Actually, these guys just popped up a few days ago with some other people of interest. And I don't need to tell you who their primary target is.”

His shoulders sagged. “Copycats. Are you serious?” Han shrugged, giving a noncommittal shrug. “Do they know we're watching?”

“Nope, not yet.” The old knight folded his arms over his chest. “They will soon, though. Those feeds are from teams we have scattered around the perimeter.”

Oh. Finn frowned. “... Were you waiting for me?”

“They want Poe.” Han looked to him with a frown. “We're the Royal Guard. We'll make sure nothing happens to the Crown, but you're _his_ bodyguard. What do you want to do with them?”

It took him a second to see why the question really did pertain to him. This wasn't part of the same group from before, that much was obvious. Affiliations were a maybe, but highly doubtful. They just sounded like three idiots with guns and drug money. Still, he could see how this one operation could run the course for other attacks in the future. Finn looked to the screens again, thinking for what little time he had left, a part of his brain devoted to not letting the rest of him get overwhelmed. They were copycats, but they were still prepared and armed to the teeth. Whoever had tried to attack Poe before was much more put together than this, so whatever message went out now would be directed more towards other copycats than these guys.

He had to tell other extremists that they weren't going to put up with threats, _and_ tell the real assassins that they weren't afraid, all while keeping their own people calm and sure of the Crown. “Are we sure there's no affiliations with the real ones?”

“Completely. The other guys were too militant. These are bunch of jackasses.” Han sighed, “We do get these every now and then, kid. It's not like it's new.”

“But the circumstances are,” Finn reasoned, “That's why you're asking me.”

The knight shrugged again. “You're the expert.”

The expert. Right... He ignored the politics for a moment and thought of Poe. “Fuck them up. Bring in anyone who surrenders for questioning.”

The entire room bustled to life, and Han put a finger to his ear. “Take out hostiles. Bring in anyone else,” he told whoever was listening on the other side and looked back to Finn.

He just watched the screens as squads suddenly swarmed the building. “Just make sure PR keeps it as quiet as they can for now. If this keeps happening, we'll make an example out of the next idiot.”

“Now look who's in charge,” Han muttered

“You did say I'm the expert.”

“Just go eat. Hell, I'm sure Poe's waiting for you somewhere.”

Finn almost smirked to that, but still didn't move. “What would you have done with them?”

The knight didn't hesitate in a response. “On as high alert as we are? Execution style, kid.”

* * *

Before he even made it to the kitchens, Finn got word that it was already over. No one surrendered. They'd brief him in the afternoon of their findings, alerting him immediately to anything important.

It was weird. Maybe it was because he wasn't there or because of what they were planning to do, but he didn't feel sorry for them or himself. He didn't feel pity or guilt. Maybe he would, Finn almost hoped. Maybe it just needed time to settle. But he didn't feel bad for anything he did at the hotel either. He didn't feel bad about the people he killed there. Perhaps it was just a blessing, but Finn was a little worried about the lack of empathy. A little ashamed.

But it washed away when the smell of bacon and eggs hit him full in the face, and he opened the door to find Poe already at the small table, picking at his food. Another plate was set beside his, while a few cooks and staff weaved in and out of the kitchen with ease. When Poe looked up with that same sense of recognition, that same happiness dancing in his eyes, Finn didn't care to think anymore about the three people he had ordered dead. They didn't matter, and he would do it again if he had to.

“You're lucky I just sat down,” Poe smirked, eyes full of laughter, “I was about to wolf down my plate and yours.”

“I'd wolf _you_ down if you ate my food,” Finn laughed back at him, taking his seat beside the Prince who had a new habit of smiling wildly to his feet lately.

“So,” the other began after clearing his throat, finally digging into his meal, “what did the old warhorse want?”

It was pointless to tell him. More importantly, Finn didn't _want_ to tell him. He didn't want to ruin breakfast or their time together outside of the job. And, really, Poe had too much going on than to start wondering about all of that, too. “Oh, I'm sure you'll find out soon. Right now, it doesn't matter.” He didn't really mean to sound so cryptic, though, but the Prince bought it with a smile. And it was true. It'd be a miracle if he went the whole day without knowing.

“Good,” he said instead, shocking Finn a little at the fact that he didn't want the work from outside of their thin bubble coming in either. “Actually, I was wondering-... You know if you wanted-...” The Prince swallowed, eventually finding a little confidence, “Tell me about your mother.”

Surprised again, Finn stared at him for a moment before smiling softly. “Well,” he said, cutting into his eggs, “Her name was Sasha.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well that came out a little angsty. I'm glad for it, though. We need more pining and crap in here. Thanks for all the support, guys!


	8. Chapter 8

“Don't touch that! Do you even _know_ what you're doing?”

“Poe, these guys have been pilots longer than you've been alive.”

“What the hell did you fly? Crop dusters?”

“Poe! Come on, man! They're not going to-”

“No, don't touch that, you jackass! Stop it! Put it back!”

Finn groaned and decided to wait until after he's had a few Tylenol to tell the Prince that there's going to be monthly checks to his jet. Monthly, because he does trust Poe, just not his own paranoia.

“No no no no! Leave that there! That's covering-! _Why did you fucking move it?_ No! No! Stop touching my shit! No! My baby doesn't deserve this treatment! She's naked as it is!”

“Um...” A whisper beside him made Finn, who had been dragging a hand down his face, glance over to Rey. “Is he always-?”

“Pretty much,” he sighed, “Yeah... Expected different?”

Rey blinked at the scene in front of them. “Well-”

Jessika Pava cut her off, slapping the other girl on the back with a big smile. “Poe loves his girl, gotta give him that. I never really worried about anything, because he can always tell if you so much as touch his beast. I swear, he counts every speck of dust on the thing. Probably names them, too.”

“ _Not the engines!_ ” Poe was screeching again. “Please, God, no! Not the engines! Finn, please! Tell them! _Please!_ ”

Why was he making this so damn hard? “Guys! Guys, wait,” Finn finally spoke up, moving towards the plane a little. “Since your Prince is about to piss himself over here, maybe let him take the engines apart himself and show you, yeah? You can do the rest.”

Poe, who had been so ridiculously exasperated to even notice the comment towards him, immediately started scrambling onto the grease covered jet plane while wearing what Finn was almost sure was a white shirt from Saint Laurent. “ _Thank you!_ Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.”

The guard just groaned again, rubbing at the back of his head. Before they left the palace, Finn had insisted they bring a small motorcade along. One small enough and concealed enough to not raise suspicion, but still carry all the people he wanted to bring. Not surprisingly, Poe was worried about the idea and nearly broke his neck trying to hop out of the car before they parked to scream at his friend Jessica to not do something rash.

Evidently, she was ready for anything just in case a few armored cars showed up on the airfield. Finn respected that. He also respected the sheer amount of anger and annoyance she held when she popped her head up from behind a door and yelled back, _“What the hell, Poe?_

Jess lived on the airfield, she had explained. Her parents flew with Poe's mother in the military and more or less left her the land. After some financial trouble, she nearly lost it until the Prince stepped in and helped. In exchange, he wanted a plane of his own and access to the field whenever he wanted. Apparently, he already had both, but she was still more than grateful.

But they had missed Poe's other friend, as they were reminded once again by Jess' snickering. “Snap would kill to see this.” Apparently, with their unannounced visit, he had gone on a food run. That was okay. Finn was planning to come back.

“Fuckin' everyone wants to touch my baby suddenly in all the wrong places,” Poe started muttering, making the two older men with sleeves rolled above their elbows glance to each other tiredly. “Gonna be out here all freakin' night trying to put her back together. It's a goddamn violation is what it is.” It seemed that whole _if it'll ease your mind_ speech was out the window as the Prince worked over a socket wrench like his life depended on it. Finally, whatever he was trying to pry loose sprung free, and he lifted a heavy metal plate to show the inside to part of one of the engines. “See? No pipe bombs.”

The older guards craned their necks to look, not actually touching anything for now. “Actually,” one of them spoke offhandedly, “we're not really looking for foul play since Finn thinks this place is all right. We're mostly looking for things like corrosion. You know, old oil, rusted bolts, outdated syste-”

“ _Outdated!?”_

“I think-!” Finn raised his voice just in time before Poe slapped one of the pilots off of his plane with the damn iron plating. “I think... we could use a break. Take a few, come back with clear heads...”

Jess spoke up from behind him. “I've got Sprite.”

One of the guards nodded to that idea and jumped off the plane, the other following the first with a sigh. Finn watched the two pass him, managing to catch Rey's eye as he nodded for her to go, too. She seemed to grimace back at him, but with one last glance to the Prince, she turned and went after Jessica's lead to wherever the girl considered her housing.

When he turned back, he found his charge gripping the metal so hard that his knuckles were turning white. “Poe.” The Prince glanced down to him. “You have got. To calm. Down.”

The same glare seemed to be permanently etched into Poe's usually handsome features. “It's my baby they're manhandling, Finn.”

“I know it's your baby,” he sighed back, walking towards the plane and jumping high enough to get a hand hold.

“No, you don't understand-”

“I _do_ , though,” Finn grunted back, pulling himself up on top of the wing for a seat, getting eye level with Poe again. “I mean, maybe I don't get planes, but I understand why it's- _she's_ so important to you.”

The glare was replaced with a frown as the Prince glanced to the inside of his plane's engine helplessly. “You didn't say they'd strip her.”

“I said they'd look her over. I meant thoroughly.”

“A cavity search, though? Really?”

Finn sighed again in defeat. Poe's demeanor had changed quickly from angry to afraid, and it was hard to stayed annoyed with him. “She's still yours. You have completely control here.”

“But they're all _over_ her. It's like this isn't even-”

“It's still _yours_ , Poe,” he repeated, waving at the plane, the hangar. “All of it. No one else's.” Of course, he didn't mean Jessica's property or even the plane at this point. This was an aspect of Poe's life that he had always had complete control over without any of his royal bullshit getting in the way. “All they're doing is making sure it's safe. That's all.” But it still felt a little like a legitimate violation, Finn knew.

Still not looking up to him, Poe just frowned down at the plane, his pout finally replaced with something more thoughtful. “It _is_ safe.”

“I know. I trust you.”

The Prince looked back up to him in shock. “Then-... Wait. Why-?”

“Because I worry about you.” It was Finn's turn to frown back at him in confusion. Like, how wasn't that obvious? In return, Poe's face fell, like the very idea was surprising to him. “Look, just...” He could hardly finish his words. Whatever look the Prince was giving him, however many emotions were flitting through his eyes, Finn couldn't really understand it. Instead, he shook it off. “Just do it for me, okay? It won't take long if you let them do everything they want, and when it's over you can pat every little circuit on this thing until you can breathe again, okay?”

Poe bit his lip and looked down again, shifting in place. “Okay... Can I work with them?”

“Yeah,” Finn laughed, turning to face him with his feet tucked under his legs. “Just stop getting so pissed off. They're under my orders, remember?”

“Right, right,” the Prince laughs, and suddenly all of the awkward tension from before had vanished. With a sigh, Poe leaned forward and began the task of putting the engine back together. “So, since we're here and all, I think I should bring up the fact that we didn't finish our discussion.”

Finn, who had been watching Poe's hands work so naturally against the metal, quickly straightened up with a blink. “Discussion?”

“If you want,” the Prince shrugged, watching the plane, “I mean, you told me a little about your mom, but-”

“Oh, right.” The guard laughed. Right. He had told him about his mother. How she died when he was fifteen in an accident, how she worked her fingers to the bone to raise him by herself, how she made sure he had a way to college and a good life despite whatever may come. “I'm an open book, I guess. What do you want to know?” He knew pretty much everything about Poe, and the other man knew nothing about him. It was kind of interesting to answer his reluctant personal questions.

The Prince hummed to himself, either thinking about the question or his work of fastening the heavy plate back on. “I don't know where to start, man... You grew up around here, right?”

“About ten minutes out of the capitol, yeah. It was a pretty small community.” Finn found that he didn't really care for Poe to know some of the details about his life. Well, really, he would say everything if pressed to do so, but he didn't want the other man to know how poor he and his mother really had been. Really, he didn't know what real money was before he got his job at the palace. Now, thankfully, he was too busy to be overwhelmed about it.

“Did you go to college here, too? What was your major?”

Ah. Maybe that was another thing he shouldn't- “Well, to put it simply,” Finn felt himself smiling, “I'm not exactly _using_ my degree... But it's in English.”

Poe shot his head up. “English?”

“I have a master's degree.”

“Wha-... What the fuck are you even doing here!?” The Prince started laughing, his earlier task forgotten as he dissolved into giggles. “You should be publishing freaking Time Magazine or something, but you're here guarding a jackass for a living.”

Finn chuckled, too, batting at Poe's arm. “Well, at least it's never a dull moment with you.”

“That is true. The last thing my life is would be _dull_.” Before the guard could wave him off again, Poe happily asked. “Seriously, though. Why'd you start working for the Crown's security if you had a degree like that?”

That, he didn't mind answering. “Actually, I was working my way up to detail. They put me in the scrub department for a few months, thinking I would be sent on little things here and there. Plus, apparently even in intelligence, you have to know some combat and I always like sparring and working out, so the guard schtick fit. It's just my luck that the Prince sucks at sneaking out.”

“I don't suck,” Poe mock pouted, finally getting the metal plating back on, “You just caught me at a bad time.”

“Okay, I'll give you that.”

The Prince snorted another laugh, but suddenly switched subjects. Finn didn't bother wondering why. “That woman with the Guard... is she like that? Working her way up to something?”

“Woman?” There was plenty of women in the Guard. To narrow it down- Oh. “You mean Rey?”

Poe's eyes darted back up to him again. “Rey?”

“The woman I brought with us.” Finn jabs a thumb behind him towards wherever the rest of their group disappeared. “You mean her?”

“Well, yeah, I-” Poe cleared his throat, glancing in that direction, before going back to his work. He looked a little unsteady for a second. “I mean, she came and got you for Han, now she's coming with us. Is she like his eyes and ears or something? She's not a pilot, and you- Well- I mean, is she extra protection, or-?”

He was fumbling... Finn blinked, opting to save him. “No... Well, she's not here because of Han. I was the one that brought her along, but Rey _is_ working her way up. I thought I'd bring her along for some learning experience since this would be an easy thing.”

“Oh.” Poe, who looked exactly like someone who was in between crawling out of his skin and hiding under a rock, put his socket wrench to work during the ensuing silence.

Really, Finn wasn't entirely sure what to do with that reaction. “Scared you embarrassed yourself in front of the pretty girl?”

Poe's head struck up so fast, beat red, that the guard couldn't help but burst into a laugh. “No! I'm not- No!”

Waving his arm, Finn had to give himself a moment to calm down. “I'm sorry! I'm sorry. You looked like a kicked puppy. I'm sorry.”

Somehow, probably before really thinking, Poe muttered beneath his breath, “I don't know if she's all _that_ pretty...”

“What!?” Almost scandalized, the guard chuckled again. “Do you have eyes? Rey's a gorgeous person.” And she was, it was damn true. She was beautiful. Not his type, but beautiful.

“Well,” the Prince looked like he was biting the inside of his cheek, glancing over the front of his plane with brows furrowed, “what about Jess?”

“Jessica?” Well, to be honest, he hadn't thought about it. Now that he did, Finn could definitely see it. “Yeah, she's really pretty, too.” And then, like a cinder block, something occurred to him that made the guard feel like he plummeted to the ground. “Wait. Are-... Poe, are you two together?” It would make sense... It would make a lot of sense, actually. Helping her save her hangar, having her away from the Crown's eyes, being interested in something he was legitimately interested in, practically growing up with him, it all made sense. Finn couldn't scrape his soul off the floor if he tried, and he was sure as hell trying.

Yet, despite all the reasoning pointing straight in that direction, Poe looked absolutely mortified from the very idea. “What? No! Of course, not! Like- I mean, I've known her for like ever, but we've never- No. No, I'm not- No.”

“Oh.” But was he telling the truth or lying just to keep at least one part of his life hidden? “Sorry.”

“No, it's not-” Poe shook his head, but stopped quickly enough and gave a huge sigh. “It's not that she's not-... Look, can I-?” He glanced up to Finn again, looked towards where the group supposedly was, and finally stared at his guard's eyes with a little plea to his voice, suddenly serious. “PR doesn't know about this.”

Know about what? “So you are in a relationship.”

“ _No!_ I'm single. It's just that I'm-” He glanced to the giant doors of the hanger, a tinge coming to his cheeks, then up to the ceiling with another sigh, and back down to the jet. “It's nothing.”

… Um. “What? It's not nothing. What were you-?”

“No, it's not. It's nothing.”

“ _Poe.”_

“ _Finn.”_

“Don't give me that.”

“Just drop it, all right? I'm sorry I brought it up.” And now Poe wouldn't even look at him, like some sort of iron curtain just dropped between them.

“Is it something that I should know as your bodyguard? I'm being serious here.” Because if Poe _was_ in a relationship, then Finn should definitely know, but that truly didn't seem to be the case anymore. Whatever it really was-

“No, it's not important,” the Prince all but growled. “Stop asking.”

But... he really wanted to know! Poe was about to confide something in him, and that moment got shattered somewhere along the way. And now he was talking all authoritative like, all very _Prince-ly_. Maybe he just remembered they weren't actually friends, that this was just a weird job for the both of them. Still, Finn definitely saw Poe as a friend, maybe even something closer than that seeing as how well they had figured each other out, but it seemed a little obvious that anything for them on a personal level was only felt one-sided. But he had been so sure that they were more than this.

_Maybe he just needs time before he can tell you stuff._ Finn huffed, but left the subject where it was. “You have to stop winning all of our arguments,” he said in a vain attempt to bring back a little bit of personality to this crazy partnership.

“For someone with an English degree, you suck at debates.”

Good. Finn grinned. “No, I don't. You're just great at whining.”

Finally, the other man looked up at him again. “I don't whine!”

“You're whining right now!”

Poe, who had turned a slight shade of red again, had to fight back a grin. “Well, you deserve it for letting these neanderthals take apart my baby.”

Someone cleared their throat from a good few feet away, making the Prince give a quiet _eep._ Finn turned towards the approaching group. “This royal pain in my back is going to help you guys finish looking over the plane. Trust me, it'll be better that way.”

He could hear Poe basically groan as Finn moved over and hopped back to the ground again, letting the two men climb up. Wiping his grease stained hands on his jeans in a bad attempt to clean them off, he walked back to stand beside Rey and Jess.

The latter crossed her arms over her chest. “Did you calm him down? The vein in his forehead doesn't look like it'll come alive now.”

“He'll be fine,” Finn smiled, watching Poe glare the two men over. “Well, he might be crowding the hanger for the next few days, but he really will be fine.”

“Good,” the girl answered back with a laugh.

Rey, though, leaned over to speak quietly in Finn's ear. “Is he as reckless as he seems?” she whispered in worry, likely wondering what she was getting herself into.

However, the only thing Finn noticed was how Poe glanced down to them, glanced down to _Rey_ , and turned away again with a heavy frown. An answer clicked then, but the guard shook the thought from his mind. No, that definitely wasn't it. “He'll surprise you,” he whispered back to her, _“Constantly.”_

Poe didn't look back to them again.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, this whole scene with the plane was not supposed to be an entire chapter. I did warn about the whole SLOW BURN thing, though. The next chapter should have a lot more development in it, so that'll be good. Hopefully. If I don't write 3k words to one scene again, it will.
> 
> Anyway, thanks for reading!


	9. Chapter 9

Finn had noticed a new trend lately. Ever since he had taken up the new job, he had no dreams. It wasn't really a good thing or a bad thing to him. Just something to note, perhaps to eventually concern. It wasn't like it was all that shocking of a change coupled with all of his other recent events. A large part of him knew that it was from working to practical exhaustion every day, only sleeping when he was truly too tired to continue. The rest of him, the part that was still a bit in denial about the fact, figured that it could also be stress.

Again, stress wasn't too much of a shocking factor with his new position, especially since he was the only one in his so-called “unit.” Granted, it was way more of a one person job than anything. Having someone else would make everything a little more difficult than necessary. Besides, he had Rey now if push came to shove. Since he was still technically training her and really going through the application process – The whole issue about her being his replacement was still being debated in his ever doubtful mind. – she was basically around for a lot of the stuff anyway. The important stuff. The public stuff.

Though, to get back to his earlier point, perhaps the dreamless sleeps were in part due to stress, seeing as how he hadn't opened his eyes yet and work was already on his mind. Finn tilted his face further into his super soft pillows, figuring Poe probably wouldn't manage to break his neck for five more minutes. But even with that thought, his obvious need to actually _not_ make this whole thing an obsession made him question further if it was a stress thing. Believe it or not, he liked his job. He liked Poe. A lot. Their talks, their matches, their few shared meals- If that wasn't stress relieving, Finn didn't know what was. But then there was also Poe's habit of sneaking out and the copycatting terrorists and the militant assassins and that stupid fucking funeral. If something else happened, and his Prince demanded to go to _another one_ – God forbid – Finn might just scream. It had hurt him, badly, and Poe wasn't a person that was hurt like that easily.

An extremely unpleasant thought occurred to him then, and the guard finally opened his eyes to the world. Maybe- Maybe they should have another talk or-

He wasn't alone.

Finn jumped, his skin nearly threatening to fly clear over the bed without him, when he realized he was being stared at. His still sleeping brain eventually caught up to tell him it was just BB. Which was kind of strange, actually. She hadn't really come into his room before. But here she was, standing on his bed with her stumpy little legs, staring at him with an under shirt in her mouth... Wait.

He pushed himself up a little more, still laying on his stomach from the night before, but BB jerked back, ears going forward and eyes wide, before her body stilled into a tense energy, ready to flee at a moment's notice. Dammit, Poe said _socks._ He clearly said _socks._

“BB.” She made no movement. “Let it go.” Nothing. “BB, give it here. Heel.” Still, nothing. Surely a dog belonging to the Prince was at least a little bit trained.

He shifted a hair to distribute his weight enough to attempt reaching towards her, but she leaned back suddenly at the motion. This wouldn't be easy. “BB,” he said quietly with a small glare, slowly reaching his hand out. “I haven't had my coffee yet. Do not-” She shuffled back until the shirt was only just out of his reach.

The thought of maybe just ignoring her and letting her keep the shirt for now didn't even pass through his mind. It was a really _comfortable_ shirt, only taken off in the night because he was too hot with it on. He didn't want corgi slobber all over it. “I'm not Poe, mutt,” he threatened, “You do not want me chasing you.”

The dog, still undeterred, merrily blinked at him.

He waited for a moment, gauged her for just a moment, but there was no faltering in her own defense, especially with their staring contest. So, in a blur of motion, Finn lunged at her, spilling blankets and pillows everywhere. Her little trinkets on her collar jingling, BB hopped back and down to the floor, narrowly avoiding her new playmate's grasping hands.

“No!” His eyes followed her as she began running around his bed, so Finn stood in the middle of the mattress. When she saw this new development, she stopped moving at the foot, confused on which way to go. She stepped to the right and Finn moved to the right. She stepped to the left, Finn moved to the left. “BB.” She tested the right again. The left. Right. “Bad dog, BB. Stop. Don't- Don't-!”

She ran for the right, but as Finn hopped down from the bed to catch her, she had already turned left and was sprinting for the door. She feinted him. The _dog_ feinted him. “BB!” Opting for going in a straight line, Finn bounded back on his bed and was over it in two steps before dropping back to the floor in a run. The only thing of her that he saw was her fluffy little butt as she disappeared out of his door, jingling the whole way down the hall.

Shirtless and only half awake, Finn followed her at full tilt. “BB, come back!”

Her little legs were nothing on his 5'9” advantage, but BB's quick little turns and ducks under buffet tables had him cursing lowly. “BB, dammit! Where are you-? BB!” He was just starting to think about giving up and letting her keep the damn thing, when her head pressed against a different door and she bolted behind it.

Finn recognized it too late, but at least managed to stop at the threshold to see Poe sitting in bed with a yawn, glancing back to him in confusion. The last thing the guard saw of the dog was her sprinting under the bed. Nope. That was one thing he was not about to do.

The Prince, however, heard the jingling of her collar moving about beneath him and twisted around, pulling himself to the far corner as the tinkling grew closer to him. With a _whoop_ of triumph, he shot back up with the corgi squirming in his hands. “What are you doing, you little ingrate? Give me that,” Poe smiled and tugged gently on the shirt as she growled back at him. “This is why I put bells on you.”

Finn just let out a grateful sigh, inviting himself into the room and to a seat at the foot of his Prince's bed. “I could have sworn you said _socks_ ,” he smirked with a sarcastic quip.

“Well, she must like you,” Poe laughed as he crossed his legs beneath the blankets. “That's not a toy, hound dog. Give it.”

The whole image was ridiculous. The crown prince fighting a corgi for a t-shirt as he still sat in bed. At least, unlike the guard, Poe was actually wearing a shirt. His hair, however, was tousled from sleep. It was way more unruly than usual, but it somehow made Poe look even younger than he was, the curls bouncing against his skin as he happily fought with the dog.

Finn shook his head, rubbed at his eyes, and laughed. “Let her keep it. I don't even know why I was chasing her around.”

“If she keeps this, she'll start collecting them. Trust me. Sometimes she tries to pull the socks right off my feet.” Finn laughed at him, right before Poe gave another triumphant sound. “Got it! Here you go.”

With a smile, the guard took the shirt back from the outstretched hand, but when he glanced to his Prince-... Poe was staring at him. Well, staring _down_ at him, at his exposed chest. Eyes slightly wide, smile fallen, griping the dog like he was frozen. Oh. Finn looked away hurriedly, missing Poe bite his lip. “Um, sorry. Thanks,” he hastily answered before clearing his throat and quickly leaving.

Right. He was being way too comfortable around him. He had to keep things distant. Right. Right. He'd just apologize later...

* * *

Finn was _supposed_ to be observing Rey. Watching her movements, seeing how fast she was, how hard she could hit, how much she could lift, etc. Instead, what he was _actually_ doing was basically vomiting his soul out to the poor girl. “And like, I keep forgetting that I'm his guard, you know? I mean, I don't _forget_ it, but I forget that I'm not, you know, his friend or something. Like I'm supposed to be working twenty-four/seven, and I _am_ , but like there has to be this distance between us, right? Like a professional distance. I'm not his friend. I'm his bodyguard. And it's not like I let him get away with stuff, either, but I just feel like we're getting too close, or that _he_ feels like we're getting too close. Like, I don't know. We just get along _too well_ , you know? And sometimes he'll just give me this look or say something without really thinking, and I can see it in his eyes. Like he knows he's messed up or pushed too far or got too close, but I don't have a problem with it? So _he_ must have a problem with it, right? He's more used to this kind of stuff than I am, but he hasn't told me to back off. I just don't know what to do-”

“Finn.” Rey gasped for breath through the sweat, holding the punching bag from swaying back into her. “Are you trying to tell me that you like him?”

He blinked at her from his seat on the floor. “Of course, I like him! That's the whole problem!”

“No, Finn.” She sighed, wiping her brow. “I'm asking if you... _like_ like him?... You know?”

He stared up at her, brow eventually furrowing. “What?” When Rey didn't answer immediately, he began to sputter. “I- I don't-! I mean- I mean, he's _handsome_. He's very handsome. I'm not saying he's not handsome, 'cause he's very handsome. It's just that, we're- I'm- He's not- I mean- He's probably-” Rey was rolling her eyes. “He's the- He's the freaking _Prince_ , okay!? He can have anyone! Literally- _Literally_ anybody. If he wanted an alien, they'd go out and find him one, all right!?”

“So, you do like him.”

“I didn't-! I didn't say that I-! Rey, I- I'm not- I'm his _guard_ , okay? That's not- That's- Why are you asking me that?”

“You haven't thought about it before, have you?” she sighed again, moving back into a stance and hitting the bag again.

“I don't- It's not- It's not like that. All right? It's not like that.”

She stopped again, holding the bag in front of her. “Okay. So you have a crush on the guy you're meaning to protect, and you're worried that it's going too far, despite the fact that you still haven't acted on those feelings. Right? You think that even whatever friendship you have now is too much. Is that right?”

Finn glanced down to her feet, really letting the idea of all this sink in, allowing himself to face the truth that Poe is _pretty freaking great_ and maybe the bodyguard had just a little bit of a thing for him. He blinked, and glanced back up to her worriedly. “Am I compromised?” Would he fail because he's developed feelings for Poe? Would he take things too far when it came to people trying to harm his Prince? Would his emotions overwhelm him in tense situations when he needed his mind to work clearly?

Rey frowned back down to him, like she hadn't even thought of that. Slowly, she shook her head. “I don't know... I don't think so. Wouldn't that lean more on how he felt about you? How _do_ you think he feels for you?”

“Nothing,” he shook his head, the answer coming to him instantly. “Well, I mean, we get along great, like I said. I just don't- I don't know. I mean, I seriously doubt he feels anything like that about me.”

She frowned more. “Why do you think that?”

“Because he's smart?” Finn shrugged, knowing Poe would never even come close to compromising anything stupid like that. “Duh?”

* * *

The heels of Poe's hands dug into his eye sockets. “I'm having problems.”

“I'd ask you what's going on,” Leia answered without looking up, flipping through some documents at her desk, “but I know you're going to tell me anyway.”

“I'm, uh-” He sighs, glancing down to BB at his feet, chewing a toy viciously. “I'm having some pretty bad dreams lately.”

The Queen glances up at him, and they stare at each other for a moment, before she puts her pen down in a huff. “Dammit, Poe, you haven't been going to those therapy sessions, have you?”

He shrugged helplessly. “Finn forgot about them, so I haven't been getting dragged there, so I just didn't go.”

“Finn's not your babysitter.”

“He said he is a few times.”

“ _Poe_ ,” she groaned, leaning back in the leather chair. “All right... What are they about?”

“That's not the point.” He ignored her eye roll and a mutter beneath her breath that sounded like _Shara, for the love of_ \- “The point _is_ that they're kind of getting worse and stupider and there's less meaning in it and I don't even get what's going on half the time other than the fact that I'm freaking out.”

“Well, gee, Poe. Maybe you should go _talk to someone._ ”

“I'm talking to you.”

Leia groaned again, resting her head in her hand like she was staving a coming headache. “How can I help if you don't tell me what these dreams are about?”

Poe bit his lip, fiddling with his hands a little and staring to the desk. “Look, it's just-... I really don't think I need a bodyguard.”

She frowned back to him. “What?”

“It's not-” He shrugged, readjusted himself in his seat. “I mean, we have the whole Royal Guard, right? What difference is one guy going to make?”

“You don't like Finn?”

“No! I lo- He's great! He's really great. He's great.” He cleared his throat, moving until he was hardly perched on the edge of his seat. “All I'm saying is, I really don't think I need a bodyguard, you know? The whole palace breathes down my neck enough as it is, and I've been trying to see this as a team thing, you know? Like we'd work together if things went bad, but he's a really _really_ great guy, and I don't think he sees it like that sometimes-”

“Of course, he doesn't. He's your bodyguard.”

“ _Leia_ ,” Poe groaned into his hands, rubbing them up and over his eyes again. “I like having him around. I do. I just don't see the point in this.”

At that, the Queen gave him a humorless chuckle, going back to her paperwork. “Well, _I've_ seen the difference. That boy does a lot more behind the scenes than you know. He does his job, and he does it well. Or did you forget that we have a possible traitor running through our home?”

“Of course, I haven't. You know that.”

“Then my answer remains what it was the first time you whined about this arrangement. No.” She scribbled her signature down on one of the sheets, “That is, unless you tell me the real reason you came in here asking for that, but I have a feeling my answer would remain.”

Poe frowned, too, averting his eyes and rubbing his neck. “I told you. I just think it's pointless.”

“Sweetheart,” she sighed, but not without warmth in her voice, “If you think you're getting too close to him, perhaps a step back would do you some good.”

“What?” His voice was weak, too weak to not reveal that he didn't know what she was talking about.

“You heard me.”

But he just blinked at her, a surprising shock of anger flooding through him. “Oh, _please_. If that's not the most hypocritical thing I've ever-”

She leaned up, setting him with a stern glare. For a moment, Poe returned it even after his mouth snapped shut. After a beat, he stood to leave. “C'mon, BB.”

* * *

As it turned out, Finn was pretty good at chess. Really, that shouldn't have been shocking at all that they were both really good. One of them would lead a country someday, the other was in charge of protecting that. But when Poe asked if Finn had ever played and wanted to see if he was up for a quick round, he didn't think it would be this intense.

The first round, which was a victory for Finn, lasted about thirty minutes. This one had been going on for over an hour and a half. And maybe he asked just so he could spend more time with Finn that wasn't in the gym where his mind could go straight to the gutter, maybe it was just to get his thoughts away from anything serious or depressing, but he really didn't think it would take this long. Surely Finn had other stuff to do. Surely _Poe_ had other stuff to do.

But here they were, both staring at a Bishop on the board like it had different plans for them. Still, the Prince was getting the feeling that this had lasted so long because his opponent's mind was elsewhere. He hadn't asked anything yet, intent on using the distraction to his advantage, but Finn was good even when he wasn't all into the game. Damn him.

Eventually, finally, Finn spoke up. “Poe.”

The Prince raised a finger to him, asking for just a second longer. It was evening now as they sat in Poe's quarters, the chairs they had their first long discussion in pushed closer to a table against the curtained windows as they played their game. BB, ever the dutiful companion, slept on Poe's pillows with her feet in the air. After another tense second of making sure, Poe finally moved the Bishop two spaces, keeping his hand on it for a second longer before letting it go and leaning back in his seat. “Okay.”

Now Finn leaned over the board, his fingers rubbing across his lips in thought. Poe bristled at the sight, forcing his eyes back down to the board. Dammit, they were playing _chess_. That wasn't sexy. It was chess! The things Finn did to him...

“We need to talk,” the other man said, moving his crystal Knight above the gold Bishop.

For one, Poe was offended that not only did Finn make that move quickly, but he also managed to cut off any moves he had planned with that piece. Second, he wanted to panic a bit at the thought of having _a_ _talk_. He almost rather stupidly told Finn the day before that he was gay. Not even just gay. Like _I can't stop getting a boner every time you slam me into the mat and it's getting a little problematic_ gay. He didn't know if Finn would have a problem with his orientation, though he highly doubted it, but he did worry that it would bring about a new twist to whatever friendship they had.

Which, by the way, Leia's advice was completely stupid. They were a _team_. All he needed was help to make this an actual team, to get it through Finn's head before something ridiculous happened. That's it. But instead, he's playing chess with his crush, trying not to stare at the man's lips, worried to death that maybe he's figured out how fucking obvious he's been lately. Because staring at his shirtless body that morning had gone totally smoothly, and Poe didn't freak out in the shower at all afterward.

“About what?” he asked calmly, bringing his mind back to the game and his last Rook and the Queen.

Finn bit his lip, and it did not go unnoticed in the least. “I need you to promise me something.”

_Stop staring at me all the damn time_ was probably a good guess. Or maybe even _You do realize I'm your guard and not your concubine, right?_ Or perhaps the ever favorite _Never tell me that you're attracted to me, ever, please_. Or, or- But when Poe looked back up to him, Finn looked entirely serious as the other man stared down at the board, too. But he was looking through it, not at it, and in way too tired of a manner. Had he missed something? “What is it?” he tried to ask casually, moving his Rook ahead a few spaces to make some sly room for his Queen.

Finn rubbed at his neck, not unlike Poe had done a couple of hours ago. “I, uh-...” He sighed and grew quiet for a moment as he stared at the game. Eventually, he moved his second Knight to counter the Rook, falling right into the trap that Poe had set up without realizing it or caring. “You remember the day I first got this job?”

“I'm pretty sure I'm not ever going to forget that,” Poe frowned, thinking back to that stupid hotel.

“No, no.” Finn shook his head, rubbing at his eyes. “I mean the next day, when I got officially instated.” There was a pause that Poe didn't bother to interrupt. “When you were showing me this wing and you stopped me on the stairs.”

It wasn't even a question, but Poe did remember. He frowned, thinking back to what he had said then. _If something happens-_ “I remember.”

Finn looked up to him then, sadly, like he didn't really want to bring this up. “I just need you to promise... that if something happens to _me_ , you wouldn't blame yourself either.”

_If something-_ He didn't expect that. This was the last thing he expected to hear come out of his mouth, ever. Poe leaned back in his seat slowly, eyes narrowing, his hands twitching with the want to ball into fists at the mere thought that they're actually fucking _having_ this conversation. “If it's not my fault, then who's fault would it be?”

Finn looked surprised and somehow hurt at the comeback. “Poe, it isn't-”

The Prince leaned forward, moving his Queen to check as he stood. “I'm not having this conversation with you.”

“Poe.”

“Talk to me when you get that out of your head,” the Prince told him over his shoulder and left.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unlike the last chapter, this one was all over the place, but I managed to reign it back in on the last bit there. I think I have the rest of this fic outlined now, but it'll probably be shorter than I originally planned? I don't know. Sometimes, little ideas will spring up (like this chess game/promise thing), and I'll have to include it in. But it doesn't matter. Either way, we have a lot of drama before the end. Thanks for sticking with me!


	10. Chapter 10

He didn't even try to follow Poe.

Really, Finn thought it was a simple enough request. After all, he was forced to promise the same thing hardly a week ago. But that was before everything. Before their daily sparring matches, before the funeral, before seeing that jet... Things were a little different between them now; Finn understood that much. But he didn't think this would be such a big deal. In fact, he assumed Poe would awkwardly tell him _of course_ and _I wasn't going to in the first place_ , and that would have been enough. He just needed something to let his mind rest.

But he really didn't expect that. He didn't expect Poe getting angry with him or such a harsh response. He never thought the Prince would storm out on him over something that was extremely probable. It was the whole point of finding Rey!

He was compromised. They were too close. But- But he didn't want to _stop_ this. Finn knew he was good at his job and, at this point, he trusted no one else with it. Knowing that there was still a mole inside of the palace was hell enough on his nerves when he couldn't be with the Prince at every second (like right now), but the thought of that mole being the one closest to Poe at all times was going too far.

He'd just... have to get better at it. He'd have to be the one to separate them. It was so fucking stupid and not fair at all, but it was for Poe. He didn't want the other man at a funeral like that ever again, much less his own. Of course, Finn would fight tooth and nail to survive, but Poe came first. Poe would _always_ come first.

But Finn couldn't emotionally separate them and pretend that Poe would be okay with it. He wasn't stupid. Poe hardly talked to anyone, and they got along so well. Not to mention... the Prince hadn't been all right lately. There was a lot holding him down, a lot on his shoulders, too many things he hadn't confided in his guard about. The sparring helped him, Finn could tell. That and all of their other distractions. It's one of his ways of protecting Poe, and he really wasn't sure if he was ready or willing to give that up.

Dammit. If he could just promise him this one thing, then it would all be okay.

A knock sounded on the door, making Finn's head shoot up, knowing it definitely wasn't Poe coming back to his quarters. Instead, Rey stood there, confusion on her face for the scene in front of her.

But she just clenched her jaw and tilted her head to the hallway. “Han wants you.”

* * *

“What is it now?” he asked, voice carrying over the other noises in the Royal Guard's briefing room. The only difference from before was the lack of faces and the extra chatter.

“Car bomb,” Han answered as he came out of his office with a few files. He waved them at Finn with the most sarcastic smirk he'd ever seen. “Guess where it was.”

_Shit._ “Did you really let someone detonate a fucking bomb right outside the damn gate?”

“It was across the street, mind you,” Han frowned, continuing his walk pass him. Finn and Rey followed. “And no, they didn't detonate it.”

“It wouldn't do any good unless they were trying to send a message,” Finn thought aloud, easily following Han's quick gait. “Unless it was a distraction.”

“Bingo,” the old knight answered, waving his files again, “but it wasn't you-know-who. If it were, I'll have you know that you'd be seeing the inside of a bunker right now.”

“Copycats?”

“One of them tried to set the bomb,” Han sighed, “Two more actually tried hoping the back gates at the same time the bomb _would have_ gone off had we not found it.”

“The perps?” Finn asked as the knight steered them all into a dark room. Behind the one way glass were three people, all about ten years older than himself, all handcuffed and sitting behind a metal table.

Han handed him the file. “Found this in the van the two had around back.” When Finn opened it, he found a black and white picture of Poe in cross hairs with the same coat he had on at the funeral procession. “Before you freak out, we're pretty sure it's photoshop. I mean, who snaps a picture down a scope? Would that even come out right?”

Finn sighed, pushing the picture back into the older man's chest. “That all they have?”

“The same layout of the palace that's on wikipedia,” the other shrugged. “They definitely had a plan mapped out on it, but it still would have been a bust with that phony thing.”

“Han,” Finn groaned, forgetting that Rey was even in the room, “Why does everyone want to _kill_ their Prince?”

The knight raised his brows in a shrug. “Some people aren't over the born out of wedlock thing. Some are just trying to get in on this fifteen seconds of fame before it's over with. Some people don't have anything else to live for... I mean, like I said, this really is normal. The Crown gets threats from daylight to dark. Attacks are a little more rare, but I promise you that the public doesn't know about half of them.”

“Does Leia?”

“Unfortunately,” Han grunted, “but Poe doesn't. That's why the damn kid sneaks out the way he does.” There was a quiet moment while Finn stared at the idiots behind the glass, before the knight spoke up again. “You okay, kid? Where's Poe at, anyway?”

It took him a second to really think on it before coming to an answer he knew without a doubt was true. “The gym.” Beating something to death and imagining Finn's face was on it. “I'm going to talk to them.” Finally acknowledging her presence, he turned to Rey. “Go find Poe. Make sure he goes to bed at some point tonight and _stays_ in this stupid palace. If he asks about me, tell him I'm busy. I don't want him knowing about this.”

She nodded, so he turned to Han and took the picture back, before following her out. Rey went her own way, and Finn walked into the next room.

The three of them, two men and one woman, raised their heads to his entrance with wide eyes. The woman looked closer to his age with her dark brown hair. The men, one ginger and freckled, the other dark like him, were definitely younger than he first assessed. Still, he was the youngest one in the room, but he doubted he was the one there with the lowest blood pressure.

“What's up?” he asked, not expecting a response and not getting one. He slapped the picture down, making it very clear as to why he was there, before leaning against one of the chairs opposite them. “I've had a bad day today,” he announced without much of an introduction, “and I would just like you all to know that I can have you killed for a lot less if I wanted to.”

It was true. He didn't care if it scared them. He just wanted to say it. “So,” he pulled out the chair and sat down when he still got no response. The girl was looking at the wall behind him. “Who's idea was it?”

The ginger man swallowed and nodded to the man in the middle. “Jim's.”

_Jim_ did a double take to his comrade. “Like hell it was.”

Finn hummed, shutting them up. “Who made the bomb?”

“I did,” the woman whispered, still not looking to him.

He nodded when no one refuted it. “Was the Prince your primary target?” The two men glanced to the photo. “Why?” No one said anything. The ginger clenched his jaw. “Who made the plan to sweep through the palace?”

“I did,” the ginger spoke up again, quieter this time, glancing to the photo again.

Finn nodded and leaned on the table, looking to the one in the middle. “Jim, I gotta ask. You didn't make the plan or the bomb. Why are you here?”

Their eyes met for a moment before he looked down at the table. “I had the guns.”

The guns. Finn chuckled at that, sitting up straighter, rubbing the back of his head. They were scared. They were freaking terrified of what was going to happen to them. Idiots. Fucking idiots. “Ever killed anyone before?”

The woman and Jim shook their heads, willing to at least not go down for murder. The ginger, though, met his eyes angrily. “You think I couldn't?”

Yeah, it was definitely his idea. “Of course, you could. Anyone could.” He sighed, finally leaning back in the chair to study them all. “I won't ask again. Why did you want to kill the Prince?”

Jim looked down, hiding his face, so the ginger spoke again in a whisper. “We thought it'd be easy...”

“Still think it's easy?” The other looked up to him, trying to seem strong, but he was a scared idiot on the inside. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. “You know... I love my job, but the worst part is trying to decide if I should let rats like you keep living.” When they said nothing, he groaned, “ _Han._ ”

As Finn rubbed at his face again, the knight's face broke through the intercom. _“I'd be shocked if you want to do a trial.”_

“No, that's too public. I don't want it getting out.” He sighed, not caring in the least about having this discussion over them. “They didn't kill anyone. I don't want to do a public execution either.”

“ _That's not what you said last time.”_

“I know,” he sighed beneath his breath, but he didn't want Poe knowing about this. He couldn't shelter his Prince from everything, but this was really shitty timing. “Let's lock them up,” he replied while standing, “I want a court hearing for them tomorrow. Private, small jury if we absolutely have to have one.”

“ _We have the option of adding or removing the death penalty in situations like this, in case you wanted to know.”_

Finn stopped his slow pace to the door, picture in hand again, as he looked back to them. Three terrified idiots. “Leave it out,” he said without looking away from them. “Do not make me regret that. If you try anything like this again, I'll kill you myself.” In that moment, he shocked himself with the fact that he entirely meant it.

Before his hand could even reach the door, he heard the ginger one snarl, “You're _weak._ ” Finn looked back to him, unimpressed, while he continued. “We planned to storm your palace, and this is the penalty? The Crown is _weak._ ”

“ _Reggie_ ,” Jim muttered beneath his breath.

Finn just sighed and looked to the mirror, pointing at the stupid ringleader. “Keep it on his,” he said with a frown, leaving and slamming the door behind him.

* * *

He could still feel the wind cut through his skin, still hear the flag tumble in the air above them, but it was different every night. He was usually alone on the sidewalk, sometimes with Finn, sometimes without him. The number of coffins kept changing, though. Sometimes he could count more than forty before waking up in a panic. More often than that, on his worst nights, there was only one.

Chains shook and groaned every time Poe landed a hit on the punching bag. He was sweating bullets and had a pretty good feeling that his knuckles were bleeding by this point, his jaw clenched so tight that his teeth hurt.

It wasn't the proposition that Finn was trying to make that had pissed him off. It was the _idea_ in the first place. Poe was the target. Of course it was likely that he'd die. Finn was _not_. And yeah, okay, his title was Bodyguard on paper, but it wasn't like in the fucking movies. Bodyguard didn't mean Meat Shield. Finn could make decisions about Poe's safety, help him in difficult situations- He wasn't going to die. He couldn't die for some bullshit like this.

More importantly, he wasn't supposed to be _thinking_ about _dying_.

He thought of Finn smiling at him in the hanger and Poe snarled, pushing all of his energy through his arm with a grunt as the bag flew back again. It wasn't fair. It wasn't _fucking_ fair. He hit it again, thinking about Leia declining his request for Finn to leave his post. Again, thinking about Finn's warmth beside him at the funeral. Again, thinking about how he had called Rey _gorgeous_. Again, about all of the coffins in his dreams. Again, about Finn with fast food at two in the morning. Again, about goddamn motherfucking _Luke Skywalk-_

He heard the door fall open before reaching out to catch the bag. It wasn't familiar footsteps that entered the room, though, as they fell to a stop beside the door. Poe wiped his brow and tears against his arm and waited for a response that didn't come. After a quiet moment in which he noted that he was breathing way too hard through, he glanced over his shoulder to see _Rey_ staring back at him in curiosity and concern.

That was definitely something he didn't need. Poe huffed, facing away from her again. “He sent you to fetch me?” _Couldn't face me himself?_

The girl, Rey, cleared her throat. “I'm meant to watch over you.”

He was actually grateful she didn't tack on some stupid formality when she addressed him. “What, is that all?”

A pause, before Rey spoke again. “I was told to make sure you go to bed tonight and not leave the palace.”

A grin split Poe's face with a laugh, unbidden. Instead of dignifying that with any sort of logic, he just shook his head. Was that how Finn saw him, then? Like a child? Is that how badly Poe had behaved earlier? “Where's Finn?”

“He's busy.”

Busy. Was his reaction that wrong to him, then? Was the notion of Finn dying so commonplace, that he put up a fuss over nothing? Was he not worth even the smallest of tantrums? Was he not worth every ounce of panic and resentment and pain and adoration that Poe could twist out of himself? He hit the bag again as hard as he could. _Busy._ Coward. The fucking coward. And, dammit, if he didn't know which one of them he was referring to.

Poe let out a sigh and straightened up, finally turning to set Rey with a glare. She looked back at him in shock but with an air of apprehension that she wasn't about to take his bullshit. He glanced her up and down, settling on that little face... She _was_ pretty. She was near beautiful with those serious eyes.

He grimaced, despite himself, and began to move towards the door in the hopes of hiding it.

But her soft voice stopped him before he could leave. “Are you okay?” Poe stopped and stared at the door, unmoving for a moment. He was too tired to decide whether or not he should even answer that, but Rey continued without him. “You were shaking.”

At that, he frowned. Grabbing a hold of one wrist to make sure he definitely wasn't shaking anymore, he turned to look back at her. “Finn's a hard guy to trust people.” He knew that without a doubt, even if his guard tried everything to hide it. If Finn was anything, he was paranoid. “Why does he trust you? What's your position, really?”

Whatever empathy that was in her face fled into something more professional as she straightened her back. “I'm his second-in-command until notified otherwise.”

Poe blinked. “His second-?” Leia said only one person to this unit. No teams... But the Prince knew the answer to that before he even questioned it. Another smile broke across his face, one with less humor in it than the first. “In case he dies, right?” Rey didn't answer. Just let her serious frown fall into softness again, before Poe turned to the wall with a chuckle. “I can't fucking believe this. Asshole.”

“It's a precaution,” she interrupted, thankfully before he could punch the wall. “He doesn't know what could happen. This is just in case... But every decision he makes, he does so with your safety in mind.” Poe, face controlled and serious again, raised his eyes back to hers, not really knowing how to feel about that other than just _tired_. “Even now,” she continued, “He really is being held up. Otherwise, he'd be here for... whatever's going on. You must know that.”

Poe wasn't sure what he knew or what he just thought he knew right now, yet the words were still somehow comfort to him. But he didn't want Finn's life revolving around him, not like this. He looked back to Rey, only just realizing that his eyes had trailed to the floor in thought. “He likes you, you know,” he told her softly, not sure if he even _wanted_ to say that with how it made his chest hurt, like the warmth that Finn had put there was replaced by a crushing void.

Her eyes widened at the confession, but he turned away and stalked through the door before he could hurt himself further with a reply. Though, of course, her footsteps ran after his after a beat of silence. “Your hands-”

“They're fine,” he grunted, not caring about _that_ in the least.

“You're bleeding.”

“I'm fine.”

“You'll bleed on the carpet.”

He stopped walking, turning back to her incredulously. Rey only shrugged in response, having stopped a few paces behind him, holding up a medikit she must have nicked from the gym at the last second. After a bit of a stare, he rolled his eyes and groaned. “ _Fine._ ”

She smiled to him for the first time and stepped closer, opening the kit for a bandage or two.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay, more plot stuff! Hopefully, this chapter came out all right. I edited it at 11pm, so I guess we'll find out. I really apologize for any mistakes you might find in here. Anyway, I wrote a majority of this last night, which is why you're getting another chapter so soon. Thank you all SO MUCH for all the feedback! It really helps with the whole writing thing. I love you! Thanks for reading and supporting this fic. ♥


	11. Chapter 11

Finn could feel a migraine coming on. “No.”

“I'm not asking for permission, in case that wasn't cl-... What are you doing? Why are you rubbing your head? What's wrong with you?”

“You're giving me a headache, Poe.”

Han muttered, “You'll learn to pack Advil with you.”

“ _Guys.”_ The Prince, though he seemed to be on just this side of not jumping into a rage, actually snapped at them. They were currently in a random office that Finn hadn't been in before, but it was quickly becoming more and more apparent that this was (at least one of) Poe's. Right. He actually had a job, too. Since the attack, the Royal Guard had been sheltering Poe, crippling whatever civil duties he had to endure. Not only was Finn not ready to go into the field, but the world definitely wasn't. Yet, the Prince continued, “I'm serious about this. If Calrissian wants to negotiate over the terrorists out for my head, I really didn't think you two of all people would have freakin' objections!”

Except Poe wasn't being very civil right now. He was angry. Likely still angry about their rather short conversation the night before. Rey had said that he seemed upset... but why was he _still_ pissed off about that? It was stupid at this point. Finn had to fight the urge to roll his eyes. “If our allies want to talk about joining forces against a common threat, I'm all ears. What I'm objecting to is you having a one on one with the guy.”

Poe, still upset, glared at Finn like he was an idiot. “He's like the oldest ally we've got. He's not going to do shit to me. Han, tell him.”

The old knight raised his eyebrows, arms crossed over his chest. “Lando's always been a good friend of mine and the Crown,” he nodded, “That being said, he did call Poe a dick on international television.”

The Prince whipped his head over to Han. “That was a year ago!”

“No,” the knight shook his head, “that was eight months ago.”

Finn just covered his eyes.

“It doesn't matter! Fuck!” Poe threw his hands in the air, turning to face one of the windows to more than likely collect himself. “He won't do anything to me. There's not even any sense in the idea. Why would he risk war by trying to kill someone in a family that he has friends in? I don't know why you two are being assholes.”

The whole debate started as soon as Finn woke that morning. President Lando Calrissian of their neighboring country to the southeast had heard of Prince Poe's recent attacks and wanted to speak to the Crown about joining forces to find the terrorists. So far it sounded like a beautiful arrangement, except for the part that he only wanted to meet with Poe himself. Not Leia, not an aid, but Poe. Only Poe.

It was hardly sitting right with Finn. “I'm not questioning President Calrissian's loyalty to the Crown,” he spoke evenly, professionally, distantly, making sure to let his Prince know who was the one being an ass, “I question the loyalty of every person you may encounter between the palace and the rendezvous. This isn't like when you sneak out. We can't keep this quiet if two dignitaries are going to talk about a militant group of terrorists. Not so soon after the attack. Everyone's going to know.”

“They should know,” Poe growled, fiddling with the sleeves of his shirt. “Let them be scared of us.”

This was ridiculous. “I think they proved at the hotel that they're _not_ scared.”

The Prince turned to glare at him, and a beat of silence passed before Han cleared his throat. “I agree with Finn on this one,” he voiced seriously, “Lando's smart. He has his own reasons for dragging you out like that, but he'll still offer aid even if you don't go. Hell, I'll probably see him this weekend anyway since he made the trip up here, so what's the point?”

“He said _me_ ,” Poe frowned, fixing his glare on the knight, “Just me. That in itself is odd. He wants to talk to me like this for a reason; you said it yourself. I don't intend to decline him.”

Han went unphased by the attitude. “It's safer to decline.”

Whatever had happened with Poe – whatever side of the bed he woke up on or whatever argument he thought they had last night – made his eyes spark and jaw clench tight. “I'll tell you this one more time. I'm not asking permission. I'm your Prince, and I'm _telling you_ out of the kindness of my _fucking heart_ that I'm going.”

The knight tilted his head to the side, a tinge of shock coming over him. “Oh, I'm sorry, your _Highness_ -”

“What the hell crawled up your ass today?” Finn had to cut Han off before this dissolved into fits and spurts of unintelligible garbage that could get Poe killed by his own stubbornness. It was best to stop skirting around the subject... Though he did forget that Rey was still standing quietly by the door.

Poe's flashing eyes turned on him, like he was hardly even surprised by the tone, and hissed, “What the fuck is this? A goddamn mutiny?”

“We're here to protect you,” Finn glared back, “even from your own stupid ideas.”

“So what?” the Prince backed off from the desk, “I'm just a fucking blood bag that people want to take a bullet for?”

And there it was. Hopefully, Han didn't notice it. “No, Poe. You're our future fucking King, and we'd really appreciate it if you stopped putting yourself in danger just because you're pissed off.”

“Oh, trust me! This isn't _just_ because I'm pissed off!”

Poe wanted to fight. He _wanted_ to scream and yell and have someone scream and yell back. Finn was definitely not going to give him the satisfaction. “I know where you're coming from,” he responded slowly, if still angrily, “It's an opportunity that we can't afford to miss, and I know that you want to do something personally about it all, but you need to step back and calm down. Look at the facts, and then we'll _consider_ his request.”

“You consider it,” the Prince growled, stepping forward to them again, “I'm going – alone – and I would _love_ to see you try to stop me.”

A moment full of heat and frustration passed between them proving just how wrong something was here. Maybe it was their short argument the night before. Maybe it was the promise Finn tried to get him to make. Half of him wanted to say that it didn't make sense, but the rest of him realized that it wasn't because of how close they had become. It didn't matter who Finn was to him. Poe would feel guilty for anyone that was struck down for him. It was just how he was – both strong and fragile of heart. To care so much made him a great leader, but-... “Leave us,” Finn requested, still staring straight at his Prince's hateful eyes.

Han looked at him and swayed in place as if he were debating the idea, before nodding and turning towards the door. The second set of footsteps indicated that Rey had decided to follow suit as the two of them left, the door opening and closing shut making the only sounds in the office. For a long moment, they just stared at each other, neither really willing to continue this argument. “Poe-”

The Prince shook his head, turning away. “Fuck you.”

He wasn't going to apologize for last night, and he wasn't going to give in to the fighting. “Stop it. Just spit it out. What's your problem?”

“My _problem_ ,” Poe snapped, “is that no one listens to me in this damn place. Not Leia, Han, _you_ -”

But he did listen. He was listening right now to everything his Prince wasn't saying, the things he wouldn't be caught dead saying. He was hurting and something triggered it to come to a head. Probably Lando's proposition, actually, more than their little fight. He was giving Poe the opportunity to do something to defend himself, but the palace refused to let him. He could understand the frustration, but this was still a little much. “What did Leia do?”

His Prince snarled at him – actually _snarled_ in anger and hate, “She declined my request to sack you.”

Oh. _Oh._ Well, that- That was a little- That might have a hurt a bit. Finn hoped to hell that it didn't show, instead letting himself get angry, too. “Why in the fuck did you-?”

“Why don't _you_ tell me,” Poe cut him off, practically screaming back, “why the hell I need a bodyguard?”

“Why do you-?” That was the stupidest- “People want you dead, you idiot!”

“And how many times has someone actually tried anything? How many fucking _attacks_ have I had, Finn? Just one-!”

“Three.” Poe, who had one finger raised, froze in his madness. Finn, who really didn't want it to come out like this, glared back at him and continued. “There's been three since I've been here.”

“You're fucking lying-”

“Two assholes tried to jump the fucking gates last night, Poe!” He couldn't stand it anymore. He couldn't stand this stupid bickering. “They had bombs and maps and plans, and you're telling me that my position _isn't_ needed?”

Still, Poe's piss poor attitude aside, he really didn't want it to come out like this. He entertained the thought of letting his Prince in on the attacks, not seeing any reason why he really shouldn't know what was happening in his own life, but... Finn just-... He was there to protect him. He just wanted to protect him. From everything. And Poe didn't want that.

There was an anger in his Prince, rolling and thundering. This time, Finn really couldn't blame him. _“What the fuck, Finn!?”_

“You didn't need to-”

“Bullshit, I didn't need to know! People are trying to kill me, and you won't tell me!?”

“Because you'd be stupid and reckless just like this! You won't let people help you, so we have to do it behind your damn back!”

“It's _my_ life they want! Not yours!”

“So you're going to go down as the Martyred Prince!?”

“If it keeps the idiots swarming around me from dying, then yes!”

This was so messed up. Everything about this argument was just so-... Finn grit his teeth, knowing that there was a lot more beneath the stinging words and high blood pressure. The funeral and hotel had fucked Poe up more than he thought, but there just seemed to be something else there, something that he couldn't grasp, something important that would make him understand this all the clearer. “You are not going to meet him on your own.”

“He said-!”

“I don't _care_ what he said! It's not happening! I don't work this hard for you to go out there with a target on your back!”

“I don't want you doing this, anyway!” And they were back around to this again, making Finn clench his fist. “I never fucking wanted you to be doing this!”

“Then pick someone else!”

“ _No!”_

Finn turned away from him. He couldn't keep going back and forth like this. They were getting nowhere with it. What's worse, he didn't know what it was that Poe really needed from him. He didn't know what to say to make it better. He knew parts of the problem, but... not _enough._

The distance seemed to help, though. Finn paced the room in silence, while his Prince steamed a few feet away, unmoving. Eventually, after another tense moment, Poe's voice was a little bit calmer as he said, “I know about Rey.”

His pacing didn't stop as the guard rubbed at his eyes. “What do you mean you-?”

“She's there in case you die, isn't she?”

Ah, that made him stop. Poe's voice was still just as angry as before, but there was more of a tender edge to it that made Finn see the seriousness in the statement and the whole point of not wanting him near anymore. Fuck, everything about this was compromised. He turned back to his Prince, tired and annoyed. “Poe...” Finn stopped himself after a fashion, not wanting to tell him everything on his mind. Instead, he went with- “It doesn't mean anything. She's just a precaution.”

There was still a sharpness in his Prince's eye when he glanced down to the desk again, jaw still clenched. “Why are you thinking about dying, Finn?”

“Why are you?”

Poe looked up, meeting his eyes again. None of their familiarity floated between them. The friendship, the happiness, it could almost be things of the past if they chose to not reconcile this. It was easy to do, to bring this back to how this relationship was supposed to be. And it was the last thing that Finn wanted.

The Prince seemed to twitch almost, but swallowed whatever thought had originally come to him. “I'm going to see him, and you can't stop me.”

“Then I'm going with you.”

“I don't need you-”

“I don't give a damn. I'm going with you. If you want someone else, then _pick_ someone else, Poe.” Finn turned away and stalked off through one of the hidden doors to get everything ready for this _stupid_ adventure. He didn't want to think about the argument or losing this job or the silence that he had left in. He just wanted to get through today.

* * *

“ _If you want someone else, then pick someone else.”_

Poe hadn't been able to breathe since Finn left him in that room. Even once they saw each other again, a few quick words spoken between them sharply, or now as he began to enter the embassy. Everything was just so much right now. The threats on his life that he didn't even know about, wanting as far away from this life as possible, realizing that Finn was willing to leave him at a second's notice- His chest ached, the pressure on it threatening to choke him.

He had wanted to speak his mind. He wanted to voice all the bullshit he'd been feeling, but it all came out wrong. Between the secrets and lies and the things that Poe wouldn't even admit to himself, it was all starting to tear down. It was just one real argument, though. Everyone fought at some point.

“ _If you want someone else, then pick someone else.”_

He couldn't stand the thought of Finn getting hurt. He couldn't stand the thought of Finn leaving him. God, all he wanted to do was fucking _scream._

But Finn was still by his side, at least for now, as they walked through the entrance with a small entourage, spying Lando and his people coming to meet them. He could still feel his guard's heat beside him- his strength and his comfort and his anger. It was all he was ever going to get from him. At this point, it was all he deserved.

“There you are,” the old man nodded. “Didn't realize you had these people attached to you at the hip.”

Poe shrugged it off. “They've been a little serious about security lately.”

“Well, that's nice,” the other sighed sarcastically, nodding towards a closed door. Lando Calrissian was known even in this country as a world-wide hero, having fought along side what is now the Crown back in the old days. Even so, Poe held little respect for him, and the feeling was mutual. They got along like water and oil, which is why the Prince groaned when Lando turned and realized that Finn was following them. “I think you have a stray.”

“Don't,” Poe muttered, eyes still closed and shaking his head. He didn't want to do this again. “Trust me, just don't. Just go with it.”

Lando looked Finn up and down before chuckling and walking into the small office. No sooner than the door had closed did the older man just have to pick at it. “So Leia finally caved and got you a bodyguard. I'm almost shocked.” He walked around the dark desk to his seat, nodding at Finn. “You packing heat?”

Unsurprisingly, the guard didn't respond from his spot in front of the door, hands clasped in front of him. There was something about it that Poe hated, but he ignored the rolling of his emotions and fell into the chair across the desk, rubbing his eyes. “They ripped his tongue out when he took office, don't worry.”

“I presume it's to keep from telling you to shut up every other minute, right?”

“ _Lando_ ,” he sighed, rubbing harder at his eyes, “I'm pretty sure you're not here to talk about me being coddled.”

The President sighed, too, leaning back in his seat. “All right, I'll get to the point,” he grumbled, not unlike Han, “My guys think they might have an idea who's after you.”

Well if that didn't sound vague as hell. Poe shrugged. “And my guys seem to think it's three quarters of the world. What's your point?”

“Boy, I wouldn't be up here if this wasn't a good hunch.”

“Fine,” the Prince rolled his eyes. “Who do you think it is?”

“Can't tell you,” Lando tilted his head, pointing at Finn. “You were supposed to come alone.”

All he wanted to do was _scream_. “Oh, fuck me, Lando-”

“Look,” the older man leaned forward on the desk, “since you didn't listen – or they wouldn't let you listen, more like – that's all I can tell you right now. We're not even sure of anything yet. If we were, I'd be talking to Leia right now.”

“Then why did you want to talk to me at all, Lando?” He expected better than this, even from him.

The other man didn't look affronted by the offense in the least. “To warn you,” he said steadily. “This is already a big deal. It's not just your life, but your whole country on the line. Probably mine, too. Now, I know that you're a complete dick and all. In fact, you're a downright asshole-”

“Wait, wait. I'm sorry.” Poe waved at him to pause, turning in his seat. “You're right, my apologies. Finn, this is Lando. Lando, this is my bodyguard who deadlifts 350-pounds, Finn.”

The President closed his eyes and shook his head. “I'm one of your oldest allies, Poe.”

The Prince just made an apologetic noise, looking back and forth between the two. “He flunked his way through Civics. I mean, it's not me. It's just-”

“See,” Lando groaned, “It's shit like this, boy. It's shit like this.” Before the other could say another sarcastic word, the President continued, “ _Despite that_... I hold an immense amount of respect for your mother, may she rest in peace, and Luke was one of my closest friends, not to mention Kes. Leia and Han are practically family to me, and even if all that wasn't true, you're still a good leader to your people even though you don't know when to shut your damn mouth. Now, my boys think they have a lead on who wants your head on a stake, so I'm here to tell you that we're looking into it as we speak. If we get more information, then we'll let the Crown know our theories. Until then, I expect you to keep that big mouth of yours shut.”

The tension had gone from annoyance to serious in the span of a few spoken words. There was too much here that Poe wasn't connecting. “Why all the cloak and dagger? Why not tell us what you think and let us handle ourselves?”

Lando gave a humorless laugh. “I've seen you dead eye a glass bottle from thirty yards when you were sixteen, and now you walk in here with a bodyguard...” He glanced up to Finn for a second. “We had already guessed that it might have been an inside job. I'm going to assume you haven't caught the bastard yet.” When he looked back to Poe, the Prince had to catch himself from glaring too much. “That's why all the _cloak and dagger_. Sorry, boy, but we don't trust your people right now.”

If he could get away with punching the other man, Poe would probably do it right now. “Finn's good.”

“He better be,” Lando stood, “I trust Leia's intuition. I don't trust everyone you have working on this case.”

The Prince didn't move from his seat, opting to roll his eyes instead. “You're an ass.”

Ignoring the mutter, the President moved around his desk, pointing to Finn. “And you. I'm sending you a fruit basket. You deserve it for having to put up with this kid's bullshit for a check. Nothing's worth that.”

“No tongue, Lando,” Poe reminded him, rising from his seat and waving to his guard. “Let's go.” Finn, without a word or moment of hesitation, opened the door for them both.

Before it closed behind them, the Prince caught a sincere, “Good luck, kid.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there was quite a lot of cursing being slung around here. Again, I didn't mean for these scenes to stretch so long, but here we are. I still managed to cram it all into one chapter. Oh and I didn't mean to make everything THIS emotional. They were supposed to have a fight from all the (totally not sexual) frustration going on, but a lot more came out of Poe than I thought it would. He's dealing with so much.
> 
> But Lando made an appearance, so there's that, and the plot is slowly chugging along. I think you guys knew from the first chapter where this was all headed, but I still have a couple of twists up my sleeve.
> 
> Anyway, as usual, thank you so SO much for all the love. You guys are absolutely amazing. I wish I could write faster and more often for you all. ♥ Thanks so much.


	12. Chapter 12

Poe rolled over in bed, sleep evading him and not for the first time this week. To his credit, at least he was trying this time. All he wanted to do was get the day's memories purged from his being, to forget all the stupid shit he had said and tried to do, all while dreading the next day. It was hell. The entire day had just been pure hell. If they would just talk, if Poe could just tell him, if-

He curled in on himself, squeezing his eyes shut. He can't tell him. There's so many things he can't say. If Poe could just swallow his pride and apologize, maybe even make that false promise, it could all go back to how things were. But he didn't want it back to how things _were_. He loved it, he craved it, but it wasn't what he wanted.

Poe opened his eyes, trying to get those thoughts away from him, when he spotted Finn. It was a bit of a shock, seeing the other man standing quietly by his bed in his sleep clothes. “Sorry,” his guard whispered, stepping back like he was unsure but his eyes definitely looked certain of something, “I wanted to know if you were still awake.”

“Yeah,” Poe whispered back in the dark, praying this wouldn't dissolve into another argument. He didn't want to fight with him anymore. His heart couldn't take it at this point. He was too stupid when he was mad.

The other man swallowed at the answer, about to say something before stepping forward. The Prince instantly moved out of the way, making space for Finn in his bed without even questioning it, watching him get comfortable beneath the blankets like this was normal for them. It could be. If they could fix this, it could be. “Finn,” he muttered, knowing that the other man came her to say something, but he had to just get this out first, “I am so sorry that I'm a complete asshole.”

He could see his guard's beautiful smile even in his dark room, only with the light of the moon through his windows. “It's okay.”

“It's not,” he shook his head, “It's really not. You don't understand. I don't want you to leave.”

“I know,” his guard breathed, a hand ghosting against Poe's jawline. “It's okay. I just want you to know that it's all okay. That nothing's going to happen.”

“You don't know that.” A fear threatened to creep into him, thinking of everything that could go wrong all because of _him_.

But the hand glided across his skin and into his hair as Finn moved closer. “ _Nothing's_ going to happen. It can, but it won't. We'll make sure of that. All right? I don't want you to worry. That's my job now, understand?”

Poe swallowed, his hands itching to reach out, too. “Who's going to worry about you, then?” he asked in a held breath, finger tips tracing Finn's shirt.

That beautiful smile graced his face again, reaching clear into his eyes with a whole other emotion. “I'll be okay. Everything's going to be okay. I'm not going anywhere, Poe.”

He reached further, gripping at the shirt, trying to swallow anything through his dry throat again. “Promise?”

Finn moved closer still, breathing the same air, sharing the same heat. “I swear,” he said slowly, so quietly that only Poe would ever hear him, “I will never leave you.”

His hands were trembling with the thought, with their proximity, with Finn's hand tangled in his air, with his scent so close and overwhelming. _“Finn...”_ He was lost in those eyes for a moment. Dark and tired and so full of love and hope and happiness with promises shining in them one after the other. Poe could feel his breath against his cheek, and it took hardly a thought to lean forward... and lightly press their lips together like feathers, hardly even touching skin to skin.

It lasted a second before Finn jerked back. “Poe-”

“No,” the Prince gripped harder at his shirt, hands full on shaking now. He could understand if the other man didn't feel the same – that wasn't the problem – but he didn't want to be rejected just because of who they were. _“Please.”_ _I want this. I'll give anything for this. I need you. I-_

Finn blinked at him and slowly moved back in, making Poe's breath tumble out of his lungs in the widest range of emotions he'd ever felt. There was a moment's hesitation where thought spilled out from behind the other man's bright eyes, until he leaned forward and experimentally pressed their lips together again.

It felt like Poe's entire body could sing and catch fire right at that moment. Any other fears he may have had about Finn's doubt was destroyed when the other man pulled away with a big smile on his face. Poe pulled him back in by the shirt, catching the other's bottom lip between his, feeling that hand go back in his hair. Between their kisses were smiles and light laughs for only them, only sounds and words that they could hear. No guards. No crowns. Just him and Finn. His own hand found it's way to the back of the other man's neck, pulling him closer, trying hard to deepen the kiss like this was the only moment they'd ever have. The entire time, his heart soared higher and faster than his jet, straight through the atmosphere.

Especially when Finn smiled into the kiss and opened his mouth for him, tongues quickly getting to know each other. He caught himself laughing as his Finn leaned against him, pushing him onto his back. This is how it should always be, all the time. Just them, happy and together. No one else. Nothing else.

Lips aimlessly moved together, hands groping at each other, as Finn moved completely on top of him, bodies pressed together. Poe muffled out a moan as Finn kissed him harder and deeper, his legs wrapping around his torso with the sole intent to _get him closer,_ arms winding around his shoulders to keep him there. _Stay_ , he tried to tell him through their kiss, _Just stay._

Finn broke free, but came back to him again once- twice- three times before he laughed and pulled back. Poe allowed it so long as their hands were still on each other, so long as he kept looking down at him like that. His Finn laughed in the still air, a hand finding the side of Poe's face so gently, a thumb brushing beside his eye. “You're so beautiful,” Finn whispered to him in the dark, his whole hand spreading to cup his face, “I love you.”

A gunshot- Finn jerked to the side, the blood- blood-

Poe shot up, finding that Finn had vanished to where he should have fallen. _“Finn...”_ He was dead. He was shot in the head. He'd be- There was nothing where the shot had come from. Poe wiped at his face to clear the blood, his hand coming away wet as he frantically looked around again. Confused, _terrified_ , he deftly reached over for a lamp or something, anything.

Before he could even take a better look now that light flooded the room, his eyes were drawn to his hand and how it clearly wasn't red. He looked to his side again, seeing an empty bed. Poe wiped at his face again. Tears, he realized. He was crying. And shaking. Hard.

It wasn't real, he told himself, gulping breaths of air as his hand pushed his hair back. It wasn't real. None of it was real. None of it.

A jingling sound hitting his bed made Poe stiffen for a second, before he relaxed again, forcing himself to breathe as evenly as he could manage. It wasn't real. Finn wasn't dead. Finn was okay, alive, safe. But he kept shaking, because it wasn't real. Finn didn't kiss him. Finn wasn't in love with him. Finn never promised to stay. _Finn wasn't dead._

A sob tore itself from his throat, racking through him in a tremor. It wasn't real. He didn't know what he was grieving anymore. It wasn't real.

Softness brushed against his arm and torso, something light and wet darting against his chin. BB whined, pushing her head against his when he didn't acknowledge her. Eventually, his hand found her fur, trying to pull himself together just to fall back into the depression with another sob. So, for a moment, he just let himself cry, wishing Finn was there.

* * *

It took a good fifteen minutes for Poe to get himself under control again. It was only a dream. A badly fucked up dream, but still a dream. Even so, sleep wasn't going to happen anymore. It was far too late to call Jess or even Snap. He could always leave and go somewhere else, but Poe was itching to get in the air. It was the only thing that could really help, he knew, but these things couldn't be planned last minute. But he couldn't sleep. He couldn't stay in this bed, in this _room_ any longer. Maybe he could just go to the airfield or something. Something. Anything but here.

When he finally got up, BB followed about pace's distance behind his feet. Her little jingles were good company as he opened the hidden door and quietly sneaked inside of the passage.

But even as his mind drifted, his feet began to slow as he passed the passage leading to Finn's room until he finally just stopped. Seeing him, knowing without a doubt in this world that he really was alive and safe, was an overwhelming option. And maybe it wouldn't be so bad. It was so late, basically morning, so Finn would definitely be asleep right now. It would just take a second, just a stolen moment that only he would ever know about. If he could just see him, get the image of the blood out of his head- His body began moving forward without his consent, already pressing his hands against the warm wood, and gently pushing it open, hoping he wouldn't scare Finn awake.

What he found was quite the opposite. The lights were on, and Finn looked up to the opening door from his seat on the bed, his phone in his hand. He didn't look shocked to see him as much as just pleasantly confused. For a moment, Poe didn't do anything until he glanced down to the floor in shame. “Thought you were asleep.”

Finn shook his head and licked his lips, looking down to the device again. “Nah... but I did hear you leaving. Didn't think you were coming here.”

Oh. “When did you plan on stopping me?”

“I wasn't,” Finn sighed, placing the phone to his side. “Figured you needed to get out for a little while, attempted homicides aside...”

… Oh. That actually felt worse than getting caught. Poe swallowed, fidgeting with his hands, wringing them together and squeezing. “I'm sorry... about earlier,” it came out without the words even being considered, “I'm a dick. I just- I don't like this whole-... I didn't mean that I want you gone, Finn.”

A moment passed, a cruel moment of silence, before his soft voice answered, “I know, Poe. I know what you meant... Things just can't be so simple like that right now. You know that.”

“I know it. I just-”

“I meant it, though,” Finn continued. “If you want someone else, that's okay... We're too close. It might be... easier-”

“I don't want anyone else.” Again, it came out unbidden, but it was true in all aspects of the phrase. Being too close was so far from the issue here. “Do you want out?”

“No,” the answer came quickly and easily. Their eyes met, like Finn was going to say something else, but instead he just gave a soft smile, like that was enough of an answer. Everything was okay for that heartbeat between them, before concern washed over Finn's eyes. “Are you okay?”

Poe gave a shallow nod, but his guard still held the same stare. “Not really...” Might as well admit it. Finn already knew. “I don't want people dying because of me.”

“It's not because of you.” There was a sadness in his voice, a concern and worry, but something warm and comforting, too.

He tried to ignore it. “ _For me_ , then. I'm not worth it, Finn.”

The other man frowned at that, thankfully not angry with the admission. “Yes, you are. Even if you weren't going to-” But he stalled there, staring at him, a realization of sorts coming over him before his whole body deflated. “You don't want to be King.”

Poe tensed, turning away. It was something he never spoke of out loud, that he never once dared to admit to himself.

“You don't have to be,” Finn continued, like this was a normal conversation. “You can take the crown for a hot second, create a senate and parliament, split everything up between the people.”

“It's not that easy.”

“It could be...” _It could be. It could be._ So many things _could be._ Poe looked back over to him, meeting his eyes again, and something must have shown in him, something that must have looked more like hope than the despair wracking through him, because Finn gave that smile again and stood. “You hungry?”

He watched him for a moment, hardly even considering the olive branch. “I could eat.”

* * *

Every time they looked at the fruit basket addressed, “ _To the bodyguard who deadlifts 350lbs_ ,” they giggled like children. Not wanting to break that open just yet, they decided on a meal consisting of eating strawberry ice cream straight out of the container. Spoons in hand, they sat across the kitchen island from each other, their treat between them, and dug in without regrets. Though, BB had at some point fallen asleep at her master's feet.

Ever since they had mentioned it, Poe couldn't get the thought of kings out of his head. He wasn't a king. Luke was. Which reminded him of something else that they never really spoke of. They ate in silence, about a fourth of the ice cream having vanished between the two of them, before he just went ahead and asked a question he knew first hand could be potentially painful. “Did you know your father?” Finn never mentioned him or any other paternal figure in his life. Poe hadn't asked before, knowing what that felt like, but he suddenly couldn't help it.

“No,” Finn answered, his voice a little softer, but he didn't look to be irritated at all with the question. “Mom would never tell me much about him whenever I would ask. The way she talked about him, I always got the impression that he was dead, but she never said one way or the other.” He took a thoughtful bite, before adding, “I think she was waiting until I was older or something.”

“Sorry.” Poe apologized for that loss and the hurtful frustration that came with it, but not for asking the question in the first place.

In response, Finn just shook his head. “I'm sorry, too, if it means anything. I mean-...” He paused for a moment, clearly thinking over his next words. “I'm sure people have told you a lot about him, but I know even that isn't the same.”

“It's not,” he agreed quietly, forcing himself to take another bite to get his mind off of it. “But I... have another question...”

“Hmm?” It sounded nonchalant, but Finn's eyes were boring into him, knowing this was leading somewhere.

Poe licked his lips, ignoring the food for a second, as he spoke to the counter-top. “What you tried to make me promise you last night,” he began, sensing the other man straighten up in his seat, “Would you promise the same thing to me now, after everything?”

Silence answered, and he just knew that he had finally caught him in this stupid roundabout, until he glanced up. Finn was watching him back, like he was waiting for Poe to look at him again before he answered with absolute certainty. “Yes.” His shoulders pulled low again and his eyes looked hurt. “Poe... I know that if anything were to happen to you, I would have done everything humanly possible to prevent it. If you got hurt, I would have long since been dead. So, yes. I promise.”

Stupid, beautiful, perfect- Poe blinked, biting his cheek hard, his hands wrapping around each other again with his spoon forgotten. He took a second to compose himself a little before speaking. “How do you expect me to make the same promise, if I can't protect you the way you protect me?”

Something about the question made Finn look taken aback, but his eyes were still just as soft as when he had given his own answer. “Because-,” he started, paused, and started again. “Because I'm not leaving. If I did, it wouldn't be because of you. Even if you wanted to switch me out, I'm not leaving you here on your own.”

_On your own._ And that was the problem here, wasn't it? Poe was shaking again, thankful that Finn didn't draw any attention to it. He cleared his throat and looked away, trying and failing to pick himself back up this time. He blinked hard, willing away any tears that wanted to spring up again, all while Finn just sat there and waited for him to drag himself back together again. “Okay,” he sighed, like the words were pulling themselves straight from his core. Poe shook his head and looked back up to Finn sincerely. “Okay, I promise.”

The bright smile that slowly graced across Finn's face like a sunrise was worth any promise. Beautiful, perfect, beautiful- _I love you._

Poe was smiling, too, and they laughed together as they both went back to the ice cream. No guards. No crowns. Just him and Finn.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know about you guys, but I am so emotional with this chapter. I spun it out so fast, because I was really eager to get to literally any kind of kissing in this fic. Anyway, lots of Poe's POV lately, so we'll be seeing more of Finn's side again soon. Thanks a lot for the support, guys. Thanks for reading! ♥


	13. Chapter 13

“Finn, seriously, I might just have to marry you someday.”

The guard laughed hard but at least managed to keep his eyes on the road. With everything going on, he truly expected Poe to skip out of the palace at some point or at least try to. For some reason – probably because he was followed last time – he hadn't left. To reward good behavior and just because the Prince really really needed it, Finn had asked if he wanted to go to the airfield and take a flight that day. His eyes grew wider than the moon and a goofy smile hadn't left his face since.

It made Finn feel amazing to make his Prince so happy with a mere suggestion. Whatever doom and gloom that was just on the horizon suddenly seemed so far off now. Especially after the night before, when Finn gave his official report on the meeting with President Calrissian to Han. It was like, in a way, passing the torch of this mystery over to the knight, but Finn couldn't put his finger on why it felt like that. It was something in the knight's eyes, like he knew already what Calrissian had just hinted at.

But none of that was here in this car with an ecstatic Poe sitting shotgun and a silently smiling Rey in the back. The Prince had flat out refused to sit in the back, for whatever reason.

“I figured you deserve a little time,” Finn shrugged, glancing to Poe with a smile. “And if I can convince you that this is better than sneaking out, maybe you won't be running off so much.”

“I haven't run off lately,” Poe chuckled.

“You thought about it.”

“I did more than think about it, but I still didn't.”

“You're ridiculous,” Finn laughed again, focusing back on the road. This little trip also allowed him a moment to meet the other pilot, Snap, which the guard was more than happy to do. Still, he trusted the two manning the airfield already. Maybe he shouldn't. Maybe he should be more on guard, but they were Poe's friends. What could they possibly gain from his death?

_Please don't think hard about that,_ he thought, blinking himself back to reality.

“But, uh-” Poe cleared his throat, absently scratching at the back of his head, looking for all the world innocent and shy. “I just-... You're not getting out of it, y'know,” he said quietly, almost seriously.

The whole thing made Finn's smile melt a little. “What you mean?” He glanced to the rear view mirror, noticing that Rey was watching them with interest.

“Not to... dampen things,” Poe muttered quietly, watching the road, too. “I just want to know what those other attacks were. That's all.”

Oh. Ah, shit. Finn thought he forgot about that. He looked at the mirror again, seeing Rey's shocked face stare outside like this wasn't a conversation she was ever a part of. Dammit. “Well,” he shrugged again, figuring he might as well get it over with. “There's the hotel, of course. The second one was the day after the funeral. Some radicals bought automatic weapons and body armor with drug money and planned to storm the palace in a few days time. We stormed them first, but they remained hostile.” And he didn't want to spell it out. “The third was... well, you know when it was. One woman planted a car bomb in front of the palace while two men tried to jump the back fence. The Guard found the bomb and caught all three of them. Their trials were yesterday morning.”

A moment's pause brought a wave of anxiety with it. He imagined Poe would be torn about not knowing anything about the second attack, likely remembering that Finn hardly left his side for more than a few minutes at a time that day. Not to mention he was probably itching to ask what the verdicts of the trials had been. (Finn didn't remember how long the prison sentences were anyway – thirty or forty something years – but he remembered that no one got death row.)

Much to his surprise, his Prince just hummed in acknowledgment, and that was a great answer for a solid minute until Finn broke. “What do you mean _mmm_? I'm having a panic attack over here and you go _mmm_.”

“Just thinking, man,” Poe sighed, letting himself relax into the seat. “I mean... I'm not mad or anything.”

“You're not?”

“... Okay, I'm pissed. That's not my point.” Finn rubbed at his forehead, letting his Prince continue on. “I just mean that, you know... I get it. I don't _like_ that I didn't know about this, I don't _appreciate_ it, and I sure as hell want to know next time, but... I get it. And thank you, but-... Just thank you.”

“... You're welcome?”

“I mean-!” Poe groaned, closing his eyes to think a little clearer. “I just mean that a lot was going on at the time, and I was stressed like all hell, and I probably wasn't in the right mental state of things, and I don't even know if I'm fine right _now_ , but even though I didn't know about the attempts, I'm not scared or anything, because I know you handled it and there was no real need to tell me other than to stress me out more, so I get it and just- Just take the fucking thank you!”

“You're welcome!”

“Thank you,” Poe huffed beneath his breath, looking entirely too grateful to be done with that conversation. Even a light tinge spread across his cheeks from the whole monologue thing.

Rey made her presence known again with a low whine. Finn turned to look at her, immediately noticing that she had moved to look between them with the sliest smirk on her face. “That was really sweet,” she said not at all innocently.

Fuck. Why the fuck did he tell her how he felt? Why did he give her that power over him? The guard cleared his throat, turning to focus every single bit of his attention on the road ahead again, ignoring his passengers.

Poe just grunted and didn't look up again for the rest of the ride.

* * *

“You don't understand, Finn. That was _really_ sweet.”

“Please stop,” he mumbled back to her. Now that they were more or less alone, Rey couldn't get the Cheshire grin off of her face. “Stop torturing me. Please. I told you in confidence.”

“And I won't say anything,” she chirped back, looking out over the tarmac, “but you should.”

“I'm not-”

“You _should_.”

“Should what?”

Finn turned, spotting a happy man who was much bigger than himself. When he had met Snap upon arrival, the other pilot was nothing if not jovial and welcoming. In fact, he already knew who Finn was before two words were uttered between them. The guard had chalked that up to Jess and didn't think on it again.

For now, he was a very welcome distraction from the torment Rey was putting him through as they stood just outside of the hangar's wide open doors. “I should do absolutely nothing,” Finn stated firmly before turning to Rey. “It is a _phase_. That is _all_.”

Rey watched the bright horizon, not even looking to him with that stupid smirk. “Sure it is.”

Snap laughed at their antics, stuffing his hands into his large jacket pockets. “Whatever it is, might as well try it, right? Well, unless it's meth or something.”

“See!” Rey excitedly pointed at her new friend. “It's not drugs, but it'll _definitely_ get him high.”

Finn rolled his head back to stare at the clouds. “Oh my God.”

“Wait, wait...” Snap waved a hand to them, narrowing his eyes at the bodyguard as another slow smile made it's appearance. “Finn, are you crushing on someone?”

_OH, FOR THE LOVE OF-_ “No!” And maybe he answered that a bit too loudly, “No. No, I am not, Wexley. No.”

“Because if you are-”

“I'm not.”

“Well, if you were,” the other pilot continued on, not noticing or just pretending to not notice Finn's increasing blush, “why wouldn't you go for it?”

Why is he explaining himself to them? He already did this with Rey in a slightly more professional manner. Why are they both digging at him now? This was stupid and horrible and awful- “If I were, _and I'm not_ ,” he groaned, closing his eyes, “but if I were, they probably wouldn't feel the same for me-”

“Oh, hold on now-”

“ _And!_ ” he continued, interrupting Snap. “And... I kind of have a twenty-four hour job to do, so romance isn't exactly a priority.”

Rey helpfully mentioned, “I'm sure Poe wouldn't mind it.”

He couldn't even look at her. If he could, she would probably burst into flames just from the heat radiating off of him, but he just stared down the tarmac instead. “Poe's permission aside,” Finn spoke quietly, wishing nothing more than to crawl in a hole and die, “dating of any sort would take away from my mission. As we mentioned before, anything that takes away from my mission is considered me being _compromised_. Remember we talked about that? Being compromised?”

She sighed. “Of course, I remember, but you can't stop life-”

“I _can_ stop being compromised,” he answered in a strained voice, finally glancing over to her. “I'm handling it. This is me handling it.” It was either this or distancing himself from Poe completely, and he _really_ did not want to do the latter. It was a stupid crush. It would pass.

Snap chuckled on his other side, bringing the attention back to him. “Handling it, huh? I don't know you too well, but you look pretty far gone, friend.”

Or maybe the pilot was right, and it wouldn't pass. That didn't matter. Thanks to Finn, Poe would live long enough to marry into a noble house and have plenty of little future senators and dukes without worrying about the weight of the Crown on his shoulders. That was the only future Finn _dared_ to dream of, not that he had time to think on much else. Never mind that he wasn't even in this ideal world lifetimes away. All of this, everything he did, was for the best. “It doesn't matter how I feel,” he said, suddenly more serious but at least not angry yet, “The job is more important.”

Giggling from within the hangar tore his thoughts away, as Finn looked back to Jessica. She was laughing at something Poe had said as the pair approached them, not that the guard was jealous of her or anything. It was made pretty clear that Poe wasn't interested and that the big missing piece was the lack of enthusiasm to someday be king... Well, maybe he was a little saddened at the sight, but he wasn't jealous. Not after that berating between Rey and Snap.

The next thing he noticed was Poe, his laughing smile splitting his face when he spotted them. “There you are!”

Finn hadn't seen him in the orange flight suit before. It was weird that the guy was actually _attractive_ in an orange flight suit of all things, but it was probably the giant grin making his whole being glow that really made him turn heads. The guard couldn't help but return it, despite feeling Snap's eyes on him. “You look excited.”

“Excited?” Poe chuckled, stopping in his walk. “Man, I don't remember the last time I went up without being scared of getting caught. Come on. I'm going before you change your mind.”

Laughing, Finn followed his Prince without a second thought, hardly realizing or caring that no one else followed the path to the jet with them. Poe mumbled beneath his breath, hardly able to hear, “You are like the best bodyguard ever.”

“I know,” Finn jokingly agreed. “Don't make me regret it, Dameron. No loop-de-loops.”

“I promise I won't accidentally start an intercontinental war.”

“Thanks. I appreciate it.”

Poe started laughing again, the happiness coming easy to him today. A heat spilled through the guard, knowing that _he_ was the one to cause this. “I'm gonna repay you,” the Prince giggled, “Seriously.”

Wait. “What?” Finn, no less full of smiles, shook his head. “No, man. Don't. You need this. I don't need anything.”

“Yeah,” Poe agreed, “but I'm still gonna.” He ducked beneath the plane, doing a last minute check on the engines while the guard laughed and rolled his eyes. “Since the days of learning about literature must seem like a distant dream at this point, I was wondering what your favorite book is.”

“My favorite-” Knowing his Prince, whatever title he mentioned would end up as a first edition, leather bound tome on his bed by that afternoon. Unfortunately- “Dude, I can't pick just one.” And he really didn't deserve any gifts.

Poe groaned in gleeful annoyance. “Okay,” he sighed, poking his head over one of the wings to look at the guard, “Shakespeare play, then.”

That had him laughing. “Are you serious?”

“You got an English degree! You're going to tell me you don't know who Shakespeare is?”

“I know who-” Finn dissolved into laughter, rubbing at his face. “I don't know, Poe. I don't want a gift.”

His Prince groaned louder that time, ducking under the wing to face Finn again. “Quotes, then? C'mon. I keep narrowing it down for you... There's gotta be something you've got memorized in there. _To be or not to be_ and all that.”

“Oh, no,” the guard chuckled, rolling his eyes. “Not that.”

“What? Why?”

“That whole bit is Hamlet thinking about killing himself.”

Poe's smirk fell. “... Seriously?”

Fuck him, Finn cracked up. “ _Yes!_ Dammit, sorry... Your face...”

The Prince just watched him laughing, still looking way too serious. “Well you're not getting _Hamlet_ then.”

“It's a great play!” the guard defended. “Really! Just some of it's kinda morbid. It has some of my favorite quotes in it, though.”

Poe perked up. “Like what?”

“Like-...” Finn stopped and really thought about it. There was one part that he had memorized long ago, but he shook his head with a big grin. “Nah, it's stupid.”

“It's not! Tell me.”

“No! Like... even Hamlet calls it's stupid and he's the one who says it.” Poe's face melted into confusion again, making Finn giggle before he tried explaining. “He's like-... He's trying to write this love poem to his girl, Ophelia, right? And in the middle of it, he goes off on this tangent about how bad he is at poetry, but the parts he does manage to write down for her are... ridiculously corny but kind of sweet.”

“What is it?”

_HA!_ “I'm not telling you!”

“Why not? I know you remember it!”

“I do remember it!” He was giggling, hiding his face, shuffling back with Poe following his every step. Dammit, if he didn't feel like he was in high school again. “It's not important! Just get in your plane, flyboy.”

“I'll Google it if you don't tell me.”

“Google it later,” Finn whined, his face starting to hurt from smiling so much. “Just go. I'll tell you some other time.”

“Promise?”

“Maybe.”

Poe laughed, finally relenting and moving towards his jet, blindly grabbing for the ladder. “I'll hold you to that,” he said with a bright grin and pulled himself up into the cockpit.

For the second time, Finn watched as his Prince took off from the tarmac, flying headlong into the clouds above. However, trying to pretend that eyes weren't on him was getting to be a little too much, but all three of the others quickly turned away when he pointed his glare to them.

* * *

Finn got the phone call just as Poe touched down nearly an hour later. His far too perceptive Prince noticed that something was amiss before his feet even touched the ground. “What's wrong?” he asked, handing his helmet over to Jess' waiting hands.

“Han wants us back,” Finn answered quietly. It wasn't the crowd around him that made the conversation short. Literally, that was all he knew of the situation. For the knight to call them like this, though, it couldn't be good. Another attack more than likely.

“Go,” Snap patted Poe on the back, “We got this. Go rule over something, my liege.”

To Finn's great relief, the Prince managed a laugh even with the stress. “Don't you start, too.”

As soon as Poe was out of the flight suit, they began to head back in silence. Finn expected more questions, but was more than happy when none came. What he didn't expect was a member of the Guard waiting for them as soon as they drove into the garage. “Solo wants to see you,” the young man addressed Finn before nodding to the man beside him, “and the Prince, your Highness.”

“And... the Prince?” Poe looked to Finn for answers, to which the bodyguard just shrugged and waved for the other man to lead the way.

No sooner than when they walked into the Guard's briefing room, Han stood from the table he had perched himself on. Aside from them, no one else was the quarters, making the whole scene eerie from the start. The knight waved for Finn and Poe to follow, but stopped and pointed to Rey behind them. “You stay,” he ordered far too seriously, turning to walk down a corridor without making sure they were following.

With a quick glance back to a very confused Rey, both of the boys caught up to Han in a few strides. It was Finn to ask first. “You wanted both of us?” Not that the whole situation wasn't odd. This attack was far more serious than the ones before, that was for sure. Probably by the same people at the hotel. But the palace wasn't on lockdown...

Before his train of thought could get away from him, Han blew that entire theory out the water. “We found the mole,” he told them gruffly, opening the door to the same dark room with the one way glass that Finn had been in just a day or so ago. Again, the knight walked forward without looking back to them, though they followed curiously anyway.

On the other side of the glass, in the bright room that served as their holding cell, stood two armed guardsmen watching the figure shackled behind the table. A rather _large_ figure, actually. Imposing. Tall, built... A woman, Finn noticed as she looked up to the window, like she knew someone was there watching her.

Finn glanced at Han, waiting to hear everything from her name to her blood type, but the knight just stared at the woman with a deep frown and eyes filled with an intensity that he hadn't seen from the man before. He turned to his other side, wondering if his Prince was as confused as he was, but-

Poe wasn't breathing. He was staring at her with wide eyes like she was something absolutely terrifying. Finn blinked, the pieces quickly sliding together. “You know her.” No one answered. No one moved. “Who is she?” To this, he looked around, addressing the whole room and just getting the same response in return.

Finn looked back to the woman with hate in her eyes as she glared at the men guarding her. “Who is she?” he asked again with less patience.

Poe turned and quickly left.

No. No, they were _not_ doing this. “Han!” He turned to the knight, angry now, demanding answers. His mind was thrown back to when he had asked his Prince about personal enemies, beating himself that he hadn't dug deeper. He could have caught this woman days ago, but with all these damn _secrets_ -

Han took a deep breath, turning his steel eyes on Finn. “The Guard's going to handle this. You're not overseeing anymore perpetrators.”

That- He _really_ didn't expect that. “What?”

“You're his bodyguard,” the knight stressed, his frown just deepening. “ _Guard_ him. We'll do the rest.”

“I can't _guard_ him, if I don't know who wants to _kill_ him.”

“That's officially above your jurisdiction.” Finn opened his mouth to yell at that ridiculous argument, but Han suddenly pulled closer to him. “There's things surrounding this family that you will never know, and you're going to have to deal with it. Understand?”

Again. _Ridiculous._ “What the fuck are you talking about?” Slowly, it was occurring to him that he still didn't have all of the pieces, that Poe's admission of not wanting to rule wasn't what was really missing. “Han, I can't keep him safe, if I-”

“Then we'll get someone else.”

It was the seriousness of the statement, the utter deadpan way it was delivered that made him ask, _“What?”_ No, no, no. He wasn't losing this job, not like this. Gritting his teeth and getting no where with Han, Finn tsked and turned away. “Fuck you.”

“Hey!” the knight called back, “Don't you dare go looking for him, or I'll pull you so fast-”

“Then consider myself fired,” he said over his shoulder, pulling the door open and bolting out.

* * *

He didn't go back for Rey. He knew Poe wouldn't have. In fact, Finn ducked into the first hidden path he could find, hoping for a moment to collect his thoughts enough to find the Prince.

Poe wouldn't have gone back to their wing or the gym. It was comfortable locations, he knew, but the Prince wouldn't have wanted to be found so soon. So he wouldn't have gone outside, and certainly not to Leia. Not the kitchens or the garage or the dining halls. Somewhere he wouldn't be caught dead at of his own volition.

Finn broke into a run, quickly getting to the front entrance of the palace where guests were occasionally seen. No one was there right now, not surprising, so he kept running until he met the two gilded double doors, pushing them open easily with a hard push.

A long polished hall opened up before him, light from the tall windows reflecting off of every golden and waxed surface of the throne room. At the end, sitting a top the small platform, were two decorative chairs with elegant stitching along the backs. One of them merely had the letter _Q_ ; the other emblazoned with _HRH P_.

Finn let the doors swing shut, leaving him alone in the throne room, each step he took echoing against the old walls. Once he was close enough, he made one stride up onto the platform and moved past the thrones sitting side by side and to the dark purple curtain behind them.

He gently pulled the drapery to, revealing the small, dark room hidden behind it, instantly spotting Poe huddled on the floor with his back to the corner.

Finn entered quietly, slowly, knowing that his presence was well known. Once he got closer, he realized Poe was shaking slightly. Maybe crying. The guard bit his lips in anger, catching himself from _demanding_ who the hell that woman was and why the fuck had she made Poe react this way. He knew her. Was she an old friend? A ghost from the past? It was tearing Finn limb from limb to _not know_.

But now clearly wasn't the time. “Poe...”

The other man sniffled, shaking his head. Finn licked his lips, and opted to just be there for now, slowly kneeling down and sitting beside Poe to face him. The other took a deep breath, straightening up a little to run a hand through his hair. _“Finn...”_ He wasn't crying, not yet, but he was shaken up too badly for Finn's liking.

He reached a hand out, rubbing a gentle line up Poe's arm before lightly gripping his bicep, making sure Poe knew that he was there, letting his thumb trace circles in his shirt. “It's okay,” he whispered to him, not knowing what else he could say. “It'll be okay.”

Poe swallowed hard, shaking his head. “It's not. It's-... It's not...”

“It will be,” Finn tried again. “I'm here, remember?”

The other just closed his eyes, blinking hard for a moment. “Finn, I'm-” He stopped, jaw clenching, chocking on what sounded like a sob. Poe pulled his arms around himself, removing Finn's hand from him. He trembled, taking a ragged breath, and speaking so softly that if they weren't this close then he would have never heard him say, “I'm not the Prince.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that this chapter is so late! I made it a little longer to appease you guys. And finally! A twist is finally taken!
> 
> As an aside: Google the title of this fic to find out what quotes Finn was talking about. And the Q and HRH P on the thrones are Queen and His Royal Highness, Prince respectively. That idea was kind of stolen from Buckingham Palace's throne room, like this whole fic has been.
> 
> Anyway, the last chapter had an overwhelming amount of feedback! I'm blown away by the kindness of you guys. Thank you so much! I love you all for reading! Thank you!


	14. Chapter 14

He didn't hear that right. Finn didn't- But Poe was still huddled in on himself, eyes shut tight, shaking. He did not just hear that right. That wasn't- What? “... Poe?”

The other nearly doubled over, pulling his knees closer to hide his face, but Finn's hands hovering just above his shoulder. “Wait... What do you-?”

“Luke's not my father,” he finally continued softly, hands gripping at himself. “My father was his bodyguard, Kes Dameron, not Luke.”

What?

Wait.

What?

What the fuck?

“Wh-” Finn blinked rapidly down to the back of Poe's head, mouth trying frantically to work. “... What?” But that- That didn't- Poe wasn't Luke's son? Poe wasn't the Prince? Poe wasn't royalty? Poe wasn't- “I-... What?”

“It looked bad for my father to be with someone because of his position,” the quiet voice went on. “Luke and my mother pretended to be together when they went out for social events so that my parents could be together... He was just trying to help them...” Finn stared, blinking, trying to keep his constant stream of questions to himself as the story went on. “Then the invasion and... they were gone and-...” Poe took a few deep breaths before continuing on. “When mom found out she was pregnant for me, she couldn't tell the world that I wasn't the son of Luke Skywalker, the King that she had openly been dating for over a year. It got to a point where she couldn't keep the pregnancy hidden either, so she and Leia agreed for... this... When I was born, they said bells rang across the country for days. I brought hope and strength back to the people... They couldn't take that away...”

Finn tried to form words; he really did. This was... a little much. This was-... Well, this was fucking world changing. This changed _everything_. Yet, all he could think was how all of these attempts on Poe's life could have been avoided if not for all these fucking lies. What he managed to get out was, “You didn't want to be King...” Like the realization of everything was finally washing over him. This was why Poe had been so broken over the last few weeks, why he was so against having Finn as his bodyguard, why he _insisted_ that he wasn't deserving. This was that missing piece.

Poe took another deep breath and leaned back until his head fell against the wall, eyes still closed. “I wasn't supposed to be,” he mumbled, voice shaking. “When it came down to it, I wasn't royalty. I was never supposed to rule. That was never the plan.”

How- “But you're the only one...”

Poe shook his head. “Leia had a son.”

Finn could practically hear the rush of blood draining from his face. Leia had a son. _Had_ a son. Wh- Wha- Who the fuck? “What?”

“Ben,” Poe sighed the name, biting his lip. “She had him when I was four, before mom died. After the invasion, Leia was scared for him, so they kept him hidden from public eye. Back then, I-... I didn't realize I was his decoy until years after he was gone.”

Decoy. _Decoy._ _“What?”_ Now Finn was the one shaking. “What the fuck do you mean, you were a decoy? You were a kid. What are you talking about?”

“They didn't-” Poe rubbed at his closed eyes, hiding his face. “It wasn't like that. It was a long time ago. Mom made sure nothing happened to me.”

What the fuck? What the fuck? “This isn't- Who the hell was even his father?”

“Han...”

Han. _“What?”_ Han and Leia. _Han and Leia._ He couldn't fucking wrap his mind around _Han and Leia_.

But Poe shook his head and went on. “I was-... The entire country knew who I was- who I _wasn't_... Even if we did reveal Ben, he was still Leia's son, not Luke's. He was still younger than me... The plan was that I'd take the throne when he came of age and hand it straight over to him. That's how it was supposed to be. That's what we were told. But he-...” Poe grimaced, stretching his neck, and all Finn wanted to do was touch him in comfort but feared being pushed off again. “He was scared of me. Jealous. Not at first. After we grew up some... He knew that if I decided to keep the throne and have the rest of them killed, there's nothing they could have done. He was too scared of me. Paranoid... Then one day he left...”

Wait, this Ben wasn't dead? “Left?”

“Left the country, probably the continent.” Poe hung his head again, the shakes and tremors finally coming more under control. “He had a large group of the Guard sworn to him, and he told them the truth about my lineage. The ones that believed him followed him and defected. Leia and Han sent parties to scour the globe looking for him; they still are. We really thought he was dead a few years ago. There were reports and-... Leia told me I had to be King, but I refused her. She still asks me sometimes, and I just _can't_ -”

He took another deep breath to steady himself, shaking his head. “That woman. We called her Phasma when we were kids.”

Finn's eyes went wide. “You do know her.”

“She was one of Ben's closest friends. She vanished when he did.”

And just like that, every loose string tied together. That was how the mole infiltrated the palace. That was why someone was so devoted to killing Poe publicly. It wasn't a separate country or a random group of radical terrorists. It was family. This was all Ben... “Lando knew about him.” Poe nodded, and Finn felt his shoulders sag. Neither Han nor Leia would ever want to guess their own son was behind these attacks. It took someone on the outside to guess. The rest was Han figuring out who Lando would suspect and that himself wouldn't.

Finn realized that he had been staring dumbly at Poe's shoes. “I can't believe this.” His entire world had shifted all because the previous king had tried to do right by his friends. Poe's _life_ had been in danger since birth all for the sake of lies and appearances. “I can't fucking believe this.”

“Finn, I-” The guard's train of thought left him as Poe's shaking made a reappearance, _still_ not looking at him. “I don't want you doing this anymore... I know we talked about it, but I don't want you doing this anymore.”

Wait. Wait. No, wait. “Poe-”

“I'm serious,” his voice trembled, hands cradling his head. “I don't want you getting hurt for me. I don't want you getting killed over this. It's not fair. It's not worth it.”

Fuck this no contact rule. Finn's hand quickly fell on the other man's shoulders. “Stop it. You are.”

“I'm not the _Prince_.”

“I'm not here to protect _the_ _Prince_ ,” Finn hissed, “I'm here to protect _you_.” Finally, _finally_ , Poe looked up to him with red eyes that screamed in panic and fear. Had he been scared of his reaction this whole time? “I promised,” Finn told him quietly, hand going to the back of the other's neck to make sure he _looked at him_ , “I'm not leaving.”

Poe shook against him, eyes softening and beginning to tear up as he glanced down to Finn's chest. “Ben's going to kill me.”

“No,” Finn answered firmly, “he's not.”

“I don't want you getting hurt. I don't want you dying, too.”

“ _Poe.”_ As much as he wanted to scream at him – maybe more so than running back down to the Guard's station and sucker punching Han in the face – as desperately as he wanted to drill this into the other man's head, Finn made a point to be as gentle as he could, pulling them closer together. “I am not going to leave you. I don't _care_ what you are, I'm not leaving you.”

The other man – _his Prince_ – let his eyes flicker down Finn's face again before squeezing them shut, hands gripping tighter at himself. All Finn could do was bring them closer still until their foreheads met, Poe finally letting out a faint sob. They moved together until Poe's head rested against Finn's shoulder as the guard held him, feeling every tremor raking through the man in his arms. This was too much on one person. It wasn't fair to him. They should never have done this to him. Finn just held him tighter still, pushing what anger he felt for the situation aside. Poe needed him right now. He needed this.

Slowly, but far too soon, Poe leaned off of him, his hair tickling against Finn's neck until their foreheads met again. His Prince had a tear stained face – which Finn reached up with his free hand to wipe away – but his eyes were less frightened and his breathing felt normal every time it brushed across his cheek. They were so close, so much was happening, and all Finn wanted to do was- Poe's gaze traveled down his face again, falling on his lips, and all thought stopped between what Finn _wanted_ and what Poe _needed._

Every move was hesitant, the way he inched forward, but Poe did the same, his eyes coming back up to meet his again. It was hardly a kiss as their lips lightly brushed together, moved together in breaths and silent words only for them. The touch made the world pale around them and for just a short moment nothing else existed. No crowns. No guards. No palaces and terrorists. Nothing beyond this room, beyond this moment.

Poe's hand gently glided across his neck, but as beautiful as it felt, the touch made the world rush back in. _Poe._ Poe was hurting, in need of comfort, in need of contact, and Finn was- He was taking advantage of him.

Disgusted with himself, Finn pulled away as quickly and gently as he could. “I'm sorry,” he managed to say, out of breath. “I'm not- We shouldn't have-” For a moment, he couldn't even look up to him, hardly dared to from the feeling of his chest caving in. He swallowed hard, realizing he just destroyed everything. All of Poe's trust in him, gone. Gone. “I'm sorry.” He ruined it. Heedless, praying for an answer, he tried to look back to Poe.

But his Prince had turned away, gripping hard at himself again, hiding like before. “Poe.” It felt like all the air had been knocked out of him as he tried in vain to place a hand on his shoulder. “I'm so sorry.” He had _trusted_ him. Poe had trusted him with _so much_. How could he-

Again, Poe pulled away from him, this time making to stand. “Stop,” his Prince said, finally speaking at a normal volume again even if he wouldn't stop fiddling with his hands or look anywhere near Finn, “Let's just forget about it, okay?”

He couldn't even answer that. He couldn't _forget it_. It was perfect and _wrong_. It was so fucking wrong. Why had he done that? Finn swallowed another apology, and just silently rose to his feet as Poe began to leave without another word.

He followed deftly at almost a yard's worth of distance, unsure of what to do or how to fix it, until they exited the throne room and a passing guard intercepted them. “Your Highness-”

“ _What?”_ Poe snapped. Instead of catching up, Finn stopped behind them and stayed where he was.

“It's the Queen. She wanted to speak-”

“Just take us to her.”

* * *

Leia sat on the edge of her desk, facing the two young men that had made their appearance before her, while Han merrily leaned against the wall, looking anywhere but at them. Finn swallowed, hating every moment of this, praying they wouldn't decide to get rid of him. Not now. Not with all of this shit going on. And yet, he would understand. He would _more_ than understand.

“Poe,” she spoke quietly but seriously, like the Queen she was, “how much does he know?” Finn looked to her, somewhere between shocked and saddened. “What did you tell him? … I know you've told him something, child.”

He still didn't dare look at Poe. He couldn't. Instead, Finn stared intensely down at the carpet beneath his feet, listening to his Prince's answer. “I told him about me,” his voice quietly answered, “About Ben...”

Leia sighed through her nose, but it was Han who spoke up. “We should-”

“We're not getting rid of him,” the Queen interrupted. “Not unless Finn wants to leave.”

He didn't. _God_ , he didn't. But Han still argued. “He knows he's not the rightful heir. He knows it's all a sham now, Leia.” As if they weren't even in the room...

“You know as well as I do that he still wouldn't betray him.” At this, she turned to face Finn himself. “Would you?”

That was the stupidest question- “No,” he answered back quietly, incredulously, like this would really change things.

And then Poe cut in. “But I'm _not_ the Prince.”

“Maybe not by blood,” Leia said gently, looking to him, “but you're the Prince of these people. They love you. They believe in you.”

“I'm a lie,” he argued back. “I don't want people dying for me. If Ben is serious about this-”

“Then let him come,” she shook her head, “We already have Phasma.”

Han grunted, “She won't talk.”

“She will,” Leia answered, sparing a glance to him. “All we need is time. Their mark is Poe, and so long as we have Finn, we have time.” She glanced to the guard again. “Right?”

All he could do was nod. “Yes, ma'am.”

“Good,” she sighed again, pushing herself to stand. “It's late, boys. Go rest.”

Poe immediately turned away and began to leave, so Finn followed him again, the rushed dismissal clear as a bell. But just outside of the closing door, Poe had stopped, still staring down at his fidgeting hands.

Finn wanted so badly to apologize again, to remind him that he could still pick someone else for this job. But Poe looked up to him then, and he couldn't manage any semblance of words. The only expression he could read on Poe's face was hurt before Finn looked down to the floor again in shame. He had betrayed him – _he_ had hurt him – and there were few words that he could say to fix it. Still, Finn swallowed every inch of pride he had left and looked up again- But Poe had turned away from him, walking down the hall with his hands stuffed in his pockets.

After a moment of debate, Finn turned the opposite way and began his own walk, opting to give them both space and time to think. It was easier to do knowing that the mole was finally captured, but all he could think about was running up to his Prince, dropping to his knees, and begging for forgiveness over his own stupidity, a second chance for everything he felt for the other man, a promise that he would _never_ do anything like that to him _ever_ again.

But he was still here, right? They could fix this, just like their fight from before. With enough time, perhaps the whole thing really could be forgotten or, if nothing else, maybe laughed at as a ridiculous memory. It was just a kiss. It didn't _mean_ anything; it didn't have to.

Finn looked up as another guard passed him by, realizing he had been walking aimlessly for the better part of ten minutes, lost in his own thoughts and regrets and pain. He huffed tiredly, finally looking forward, determined to actually set a path for himself.

Ahead of him sat a lavish door separating this gilded hallway from the next, but it was inlaid with bright sheets of gold where he could see a reflection of himself and the guard behind him reaching into his jacket and silently turning to point a gun at the back of Finn's head.

Instinct kicked in before panic as Finn turned and quickly grabbed the other man's wrist, a shot ringing out and temporarily deafening him as he brought another hand near the attacker's shoulder, twisting hard and forcing him to loosen his grip on the gun. Finn grabbed the weapon straight from his hand, sweeping his leg against the man's feet to make him tumble to the floor. The bodyguard followed the movement, pinning his hurt arm with his knee, pressing the gun between his eyes.

Two other guards ran in from the neighboring hall, guns drawn, and Finn looked wildly up to them. One, the eldest one, one of the pilots he brought to check over Poe's jet eons ago, pointed his gun to the man pinned down, confusion all over his face. The second, someone the bodyguard had only seen in passing, did the same for a split second before assessing the scene and raising his gun to Finn.

The pilot quickly turned to him, but Finn was faster and shot the second guard in the head.

The man pinned beneath him pushed his weight against Finn, kneeing him in the stomach to get him off during the moment of shock, reaching back into his jacket, but the pilot shot three bullets into him before another weapon could appear.

They were both breathing hard by this point, the entire altercation lasting hardly twenty seconds. “Finn,” the other guard breathed, finally moving over to him. “What's going on? Are you okay?”

Is he- What's- Finn quickly got to his feet, mind racing. This made sense. This made perfect sense and, _fuck_ , they should have known- “We've been infiltrated. We've been invaded.” And their target was Poe, and taking Finn out was the first priority, and they were separated, and-

Finn reached out to the guard, snagging at his ear piece, tugging it and the man towards him, trying to force himself not to panic. “All hands, code red! Lockdown! Lockdown! Lockdown!”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I won't lie. I enjoyed the hell out of writing this one. That's (again) why it came out so soon. Thanks a TON for all the feedback from last chapter. I'm really happy with how Poe's big reveal went down with you guys. You guys are amazing.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is savage and brutal, so this is your warning.

Finn knew. Finn knew and rejected him.

Poe bit his lip, walking aimlessly, letting the guilt take him. He shouldn't have been angry when Finn pushed him away. That wasn't fair to him. If he didn't feel the same way, Poe shouldn't be angry at him for it. But he wasn't angry at Finn, not really. He was angry with himself for _believing_ that- that-

God, he was stupid.

And now Finn was hurt because of him. Finn felt badly for how things turned out. Poe could see it all over his face when they separated. But it would pass, it had to, as awkward as it was. He didn't want to talk things out, though. He didn't want to go through another rejection from Finn again. They could ignore it. They could forget it. He really really hoped Finn would just... _forget_ it. But it hurt to think about. It hurt so much.

God, he was _stupid_.

Poe heard footsteps and glanced behind him to see two guards trailing him several feet away. Likely people that Finn had appointed or something... But it was so unnecessary. He knew the truth now. He knew who Poe really was. He half expected Finn to run then, but he didn't. He didn't leave when he found out the truth, or when Poe begged him to go, or after the kiss-

_I'm not here to protect the Prince. I'm here to protect you._

_I'm not- We shouldn't have-_

Poe swallowed hard, glancing up before him, trying desperately to forget all of this himself- The windows. One by one, metal shutters slowly and silently pulled themselves over the windows.

He stopped walking, twisting behind him to the guards for answers, but they were running to him, guns drawn, one aimed at him. “Don't move!”

What? What the- He had no weapons. He had no-

Two- Three gunshots rang out and the two men fell to the floor in blood. Rey rushed in from a hidden space in the walls, on Poe in a second with a hand around his arm and tugging him along. “We have to go! The palace was infiltrated!”

What? He- What? Poe, moving on instinct and half formed thoughts, reached down quickly to grab one of the fallen men's guns before allowing her to pull him along to another hidden passage. “Where's Finn?” What the hell was going on? Was this Ben? Was there more than one mole? Was there a whole team? Was there an entire army?

Rey didn't answer him. _“Where's Finn?”_

“I don't know!” she snapped in response to his growl. “Finn called for the lockdown. I don't know anything else. We have to get you out.”

Out? “The bunker-!”

“They were in the Guard! They know about the bunker!” she argued, running on her path and hardly checking to make sure he followed. “I have a team securing the helicopters. We have to get there. It's the only way out.”

Wait, no. No. “We have to find Finn!”

“We _have_ to get you out!”

“If they're after me, he'll be their first target!”

“ _Exactly!”_ Rey didn't waste time turning to him. “He called the lockdown, all right? That's all I know! If he's alive, he'll meet us there.”

If he's alive. “If he's not there, we have to go back-”

“I'm not arguing with you, Skywalker!”

“My name's not _Skywalker!_ ”

Something hit hard against Poe from another hidden alcove, completely blindsiding him and nearly knocking him off of his feet, but he twisted around, pulling an arm under the mass that had tried to tackle him, using the momentum to push the other man away. Rey fired two shots into him, and he fell limp against the wall.

They stood there for a moment despite Poe's mind _screaming_ to run, before she spoke up. “They want you alive,” Rey hissed, heaving for air, “Whatever happens they cannot take you _alive_ , understand? We're getting to that helicopter. Finn can handle himself.”

But they're a team. They were a team. And the last time Poe saw him-... Finn wasn't dead. He's not dead. He wouldn't die. He promised.

Poe nodded, and Rey tugged at his arm, pulling him along again.

* * *

“Antilles, right?” Finn asked the other man as they ran as quietly as possible down the halls. He still had his attacker's gun, thankfully.

“Yes, sir,” the older pilot answered, not two steps behind him. “Comm's say they're trying to secure the helicopters for escape.”

_UM_ \- “Comm's? The bad guys are patched into Comm's!”

“It's coded – an old code from before the Invasion. They couldn't know it.”

Well, they either did know it or only senior staff did. Great. Better than nothing. “What about Leia and Poe?”

“No word on either,” Antilles reported, but it was clipped off too short before a barrage of gunfire began sounding off not too far away from them.

Finn turned towards the heavy sounds – almost drowning out his chants of _fuck, fuck, fuck_ on not knowing where Poe was – and another corner took them right to the battle. There was little to be done in the way of help, though. People in the Royal Guard's uniform fired on people in the Royal Guard's uniform. It was impossible to tell which side anyone was on. Not to mention that they had arrived too late.

Antilles must have noticed something and stepped forward to take out someone approaching another man. The one still standing whipped around to them, still on guard, when Antilles yelled, “Don't!”

Immediately, the other man – _that other pilot_ , Finn realized – put his hands up once realizing who they were. The only other person alive after the firefight ran off before anything else could be done. “If you two are on _their_ side, then you might as well just shoot me.”

“Shut up, Muran,” Antilles grumbled, lowering his gun. “Do you know where the Royals are?”

“No,” Muran gasped in relief, dropping his hands, “but I know where Solo is.”

* * *

_That was a weird fucking grenade_ , Poe thought as he slowly blinked back into the real world. His entire mind felt shuffled around, eyes still wading through spots, ears ringing into oblivion. Whatever the hell that was, it fucked him up. A flashbang? It had to be.

His thoughts pulled up short when his vision finally came through enough to see Rey sliding down the wall next to him, falling to her side, head bleeding- “Rey!” He rushed forward to her, knowing that he should sure as hell be running right now, but he barely had a moment to put a hand on her when a rifle cocked behind his ear.

Poe turned, leveling his pistol to the other man's face, when four more people stepped forward, guns drawn and surrounding them. They just stood there, waiting for any move he made to give them an excuse to use the words _self-defense_.

_They cannot take you alive._

But Finn still counted on him. He couldn't do that to him. He- Poe dropped the gun, raising his hands.

The man nearest – the one that was first upon him _that had probably been the one to shoot Rey –_ turned his gun, intending to hit Poe with the butt of it and knock him out. Quick, efficient- But people counted on him.

Poe caught the gun with one hand, yanking hard on it to knock the other man off balance as he stood. Someone fired a shot, but everything was suddenly such a flurry- Poe uppercutted another one, pushing forward, until something slammed into his stomach, knocking every bit of wind out of him.

No. They were counting on him. Finn was counting on him. He couldn't leave so much unsaid. He couldn't leave him. He couldn't.

Something cracked against his skull.

* * *

“Han!” Finn fell in beside the old knight as they used the wall for cover from whatever was going on around the corner, Muran and Antilles coming to rest beside him. “Where's Leia?”

“Secure,” Han huffed like he had just run a marathon, gun held in front of him. “Or she _was_ secure when I left her, knowing her bullshit.”

“What?”

“Ever wondered where Poe learned Sneaking Out 101?” Finn rolled his eyes, so damn tired of this family. Han risked a peek around the corner, seeing something before pulling back. “What about our Prince? Where is he?”

Finn swallowed. “I don't know. We're looking for him.”

“You don't-” The knight turned to him, bewildered. “You _always_ know!”

Oh, not _now_! “We had problems, all right!?”

“What _problems_?”

Well golly gee, Han. Your son is trying to kill him, he's not the Prince, he's been put under too much unnecessary pressure since his childhood, too many people look to him for answers, the entire palace is under siege- “I kissed him.”

Muran and Antilles stopped their hushed conversation to stare at him, while Han's entire body remained frozen for a moment. After a beat of silence between the four of them, in which Finn stared a hold into the opposite wall, Han furrowed his brow and scowled. “Oh, you _idiots!_ ”

A frag that could have only been from a grenade launcher blasted, splintering the wood of the wall adjacent to them. When the dust settled from the explosion, it became apparent that the gunfire had stopped with it. Then, clear as a bell, a man's voice called out, _“Han Solo!”_

Somehow, Finn already knew who it was, wanting nothing more than to turn the corner and shoot the prick in the face. But next to him, Han froze, looking to the hall as if actually debating this. “No,” Finn whispered, practically begging. “Don't do it. Don't-”

Han walked out, forcing Finn to snarl – “ _Shit.” –_ before he raised his own pistol and followed. All four filed out into the hall, Antilles moving past Finn to take a stance on Han's other side as they faced the attackers.

Four of them stood there in front of a cloud of wispy smoke, gas masks covering their faces. One of them, a blonde woman towering over the others, Finn recognized as Phasma. Still, his gun was trained on the tall, dark haired man standing up front.

“Ben!” Han called back, and the man removed his mask, tossing it to the floor. It was him. This was Ben. This was the traitor. This was the man who wanted Poe dead. If Finn had any sense, he would kill him now and be done with it... but he glanced to Han instead, arms shaking with indecision.

“We've got your boy,” Ben announced, jerking Finn's attention back to the situation. Did he- Did he mean Poe? Did he mean _his_ Poe? “Tell the Queen to stand down.” Finn gripped his gun tighter.

Han swallowed hard beside him, lowering his weapon. “You know she's not going to do that. _We're_ not going to do that.”

“Then we'll drag his body through your streets.”

“ _Ben!_ Dammit!” Han stepped forward, and Finn grit his teeth. Poe can't be dead. He couldn't be dead if they were using him for leverage. He can't. He can't. “This is _insane!_ Stop this! You can stop this!”

“It's _Kylo Ren_ now,” Ben frowned, then shook his head, “And I can't. I won't.”

Han's whole body seemed to shake. _“Why?”_

“Because it's the right thing to do,” Ben replied, raising his gun and shooting Han in the head.

It was so quick – happened so fast – the knight dropped like a sack. Finn could only stare in shock, _stunned_ , just so fucking _lost_ \- Antilles screamed something, firing back and hitting Ben in the side, before his men could fire on them.

Finn ran for the alcove they had come from, Muran on his side as gunfire rang out again, before the other pilot stopped and turned, “Wedge!” Finn looked back only long enough to see Antilles on the ground near Han, dead. His hand reached out for Muran as he tugged the pilot with him through a hidden door.

They ran and ran, close enough to trip over each other as they bolted down the halls. Finn didn't even know where he was going, what he was aiming for anymore. They had Poe. Han was dead. They had Poe. They had Poe.

The two of them turned a corner, nearly running straight into another fight that Finn hadn't even heard. All they could see was a man dressed in the Guard uniform firing an AK-47 down the hall at targets out of view, clearly one of Ben's men.

Still unseen, Muran raised his gun, but Finn grabbed his arm, tugging the weapon down. He stuffed his pistol down the back of his pants and ran for the killer, only being spotted at the last second, way too late for the other man to attack. Finn pushed the barrel of his gun down hard, nailing him in the chin and yanking the AK from his hands, tossing it back to Muran and slamming the other man down on his stomach.

Finn stayed on top of him, getting his pistol back in his hands and pressing it against the man's skull. “Where's the Prince!?”

“I don't know!” the man beneath him gasped, voice shaking. “Please-!”

Finn fired a shot beside his head. “Fuck, I'm not playing with you! Where's Poe Dameron!?”

“The Guard's station! The Guard's-!” He finally answered quickly, stumbling over his words. “The General wanted him in the Guard's station. They were going to televise it.”

Finn grit his teeth harder. _Televise it._ “Okay,” he muttered, getting off the man before firing on him before he could move. The Guard's station.

Muran looked to him, but Finn started running before the man could say otherwise. It didn't stop him from speaking altogether, though. “It'll be too heavily guarded. There's only two of us.”

“I'm going in,” Finn answered, glancing back. “If you don't want to, then don't.”

“I'm just saying it's suicide. We can't help the Prince if we're dead.”

He's right. Muran's right. “Any other ideas?”

They ran in silence for a few seconds, getting closer and closer to the destination, when Finn barely heard him say, “I guess we're all dying together, then.”

Ignoring the lack of confidence, Finn pushed his shoulder against the hidden door, emerging into an abandoned hallway that led straight to the Guard's station. He pushed his back against the wall, allowing a second's rest and shook his head when Muran offered him the stolen AK. “I'm going to be distracted while looking for Poe,” he answered, gasping for breath. “You cover me.”

Muran nodded, checking the ammunition on the rifle and his pistol. Once satisfied, he handed an extra magazine from his belt to Finn. “You have to be almost out.”

Only just now thinking on it, Finn checked, realizing he was almost empty. He dumped that one, replacing it with the full magazine as Muran spoke up again. “So you-... You really kissed the Prince?”

“Oh yeah, Muran,” Finn grumbled, “This is a great time.”

“No, it's just-” Muran let out a gasp, forcing his breath to even out before nodding. “We can get him. We can do this.”

Finn looked to him, half in disbelief that this conversation was happening, half in shock that the confidence and will to do this was suddenly built up again. He nodded to Muran, took a deep breath, and ducked around the corner.

* * *

Poe came to at the feeling of being jerked around like a doll. Of course, he jerked back, making someone yell and getting struck in the side of his face for it.

“Hold him still!” someone screeched, his vision slowly coming back in monochrome before color decided to bleed in. The Seal of the Crown. Concrete walls. Three moving bodies... His hands weren't bound.

Poe suddenly came to life, jumping to attack the nearest person to him, when someone grabbed his arms and pulled them behind his back. “I said hold him!” the same voice yelled, seeming to come from a man about his age with bright red hair, holding a gun to Poe's eyes. “Stop moving, your Highness, or you'll make this much worse than it has to be.”

They were in the Guard's station, stuffed into some side room. Knowing his location, knowing what the hell was happening, did little to help Poe. He had to get out. He had to find Finn. He had to make it out of this alive. But with the gun leveled at his head, the camera set up in the corner with its red light not on yet, did little to give him any support. This was- He didn't know what to do. He couldn't take them all on without forcing them to kill him...

Shots were heard outside, suddenly increasing in number like the entire army had opened fire in the other rooms, and the sounds were quickly getting closer. _Finn._ It had to be Finn, it- Poe jerked his head back, nailing the man behind him in the nose, managing to gain his arm back before elbowing his captor hard in the side of his neck, hearing a crack during the split second that everyone was distracted.

The red head wrapped his arm around Poe's neck, squeezing and pressing the barrel of his gun against his temple. “Stop them!” he barked at the last woman standing.

Without hesitation, she ran to the door, immediately getting shot down by some automatic rifle, but as soon as the culprit appeared in the doorway, the woman used her last moments to shoot him down in two shots.

Then Finn appeared, hardly sparring a glance to the dead traitor before finding Poe, gun instantly training on the man holding him captive. Poe, who earlier had serious thoughts of punching this man in the gut and breaking for it, released his grip on the red head's arm, showing his surrender. He wouldn't risk Finn's life.

“The _only_ reason he isn't dead yet was so we could show your public the coward he is,” the man snarled at Finn quickly, before any action could be taken. “I am _not_ above simply showing them his head on a stake. Put the gun down!”

They'll kill Finn. He'll kill Finn. “No-”

His captor pressed the barrel harder against his head. _“Now!”_

Finn instantly put his hand up, keeping the gun level as he lowered it, while Poe whined and squirmed in this man's grip. This wasn't happening. None of this was hap- Finn fired, and the captor jerked once before falling to the ground.

He couldn't even look to the body at his feet. Poe's world was spinning as he gulped for air, then Finn was there, in front of him, hand on his face. “You all right?”

They're alive. They're both alive. “Yeah,” Poe nodded, earning an incredible smile from his guard. “Are you-?”

“I'm all right. I'm all right,” Finn nodded, patting him on the neck with that grin. “We gotta get out of here.”

Running footsteps. His guard turned just in time to see one of Ben's men appear at the door, his gun trained on Poe. Finn stepped in front of him just as the man fired, his guard stumbling in the middle of his return shot, only managing to hit the traitor in the shoulder. Poe, despite himself, reached forward when Finn stumbled, hand going across his chest to steady him on instinct.

Shots were fired in the next room, taking out the traitor just before Rey appeared in the doorway, bloody and whole.

All Poe could do was breathe in and out, slowly and instinctively, as he pulled his hand back from Finn's chest, realizing it was coated in red, “Finn.”

His guard grabbed at his wrist, tugging him away. “You have to get out. Rey, get him out.”

Finn was breathing hard. Too hard. Harder than a moment ago. Rey's eyes widened at seeing the wound that Poe was turned away from. This was happening too fast. “Finn-”

“Rey, take him!”

“ _No!”_ Poe screamed at her running approach, gripping at Finn's arm. “We can go! Let's go!”

To her credit, Rey's grip on Poe's arms faltered. “Finn, we can-”

“I'll slow you down,” his guard answered, blood beginning to stain lower down his shirt. “I'll cover-”

“ _You bastard! You promised me!”_

“ _Get him out of here!”_

Poe was screaming, clawing, fighting, but he found that Rey was stronger, more determined than she looked with his concussion, and that the last remaining helicopter wasn't far enough away for him to work himself free of her.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no idea how you guys will react to this. Like, this is so different from all the fluffy tidbits of my other chapters. So uh. Yeah. I'm really profusely sorry. To be fair, this was all planned since like Chapter 2.
> 
> Anyway, uh, again, you guys are absolutely phenomenal. The last chapter got A TON of feedback, AGAIN, so you guys are ridiculously amazing and I love you.
> 
> I also wish to apologize again, because with Monday comes the work week and the next update might be in a few days or so... Thanks for reading?


	16. Chapter 16

_We left him. I left him._

It was the only thing going through Poe's mind with Rey by his side. _I left him._ How could he leave him behind? How could he do that to someone? To Finn? _Finn._ He _loved_ Finn, loved him for longer than he realized, and they left him. Poe left him. It had been two and a half hours, and he still couldn't get the thought out of his head. _I left him._

Poe had stubbornly fought through his concussion on pure adrenaline, though it constantly felt as if the floor was pulling out from underneath his feet. It was a miracle he hadn't fallen with all of the stumbling he'd done, refusing to let Rey help steady him. He couldn't feel guilty, he promised, so it was easy to blame her.

But Finn broke  _his_ promise. Why couldn't Poe do the same? Why shouldn't he?

His hands shook as he pulled his fingers through his hair, trying to shut his mind off again. Things were too busy right now, too desperate. He couldn't let this get the best of him yet.

Since Ben's men had infiltrated the entire Royal Guard, nowhere could be deemed safe, especially with the Head of Security still missing. The only safe place that was assuredly secure wasn't even in their own territory. Thankfully, Lando had opened his borders for the Crown as soon as news spread of the siege, just in case. He had granted them access to whatever they needed to get in touch with their armies. The first thing Leia did was send a Spec Ops team into the palace to eliminate the primary threat and destroy or reclaim anything too valuable to fall into enemy hands. They had gone radio silent about a minute ago.

In the quiet, unbidden, the words _I left him_ echoed through Poe's mind, and he pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to force himself to breathe. If he had fought Rey harder, actually tried to hurt or kill her, maybe he could have gotten away. He killed the man that had held him hostage, after all. He couldn't take down a girl half his size for Finn? Not that he was thinking of fighting her at the time. All he could think of was the gunshot and blood. And there was a lot of blood. But the bullet didn't exit, so that was better, right? He could be okay. He was shot in the chest on the left side and his breathing began to fail him, but he could be okay.

Poe didn't even have time to explain the brief kiss. He didn't have time to apologize for giving Finn the cold shoulder. But he had smiled at him – _smiled._

He took a deep, shuddering breath, digging the heels of his hands into his eyes.

“Poe?” Her voice sounded gentle and pitying.

“Don't talk to me.”

“It's-...” Rey paused, then spoke a bit more formally. “The Queen wants to see you.”

In truth, he hadn't had the chance to speak with Leia yet. He had seen her once as soon as his helicopter landed, in which she tried to make sure he was all right. She didn't ask about Finn. Honestly, Poe could really stand to _not_ talk to her right now, but there was too much going on to be selfish.

So he nodded shallowly, allowing Rey to lead him away from what he had begun to refer to as the war room where communications relayed back to everyone they had back home. It was more like an act of tearing himself away from the situation, something he was invested in body and soul, but it would only be torture to watch the ticking clock and waiting on news that could make or break his entire country right now.

“Stay out here,” he instructed Rey as soon as they came to the door of an office space Lando had given to them.

Predictably, her eyes went wide, a smear of dried blood still on her neck. He didn't even want to know what he looked like. “You know I can't do that. Not right now.”

“You will,” he said firmly, but clenched his jaw and schooled himself. “I'm not trying to pick a fight with you right now, okay? I need to talk to her by myself.”

Poe could tell that she was thinking about it, could see that she was wondering what Finn would do in this situation. He didn't want to talk about him right now, so he just let her think for a moment. Eventually, Rey nodded solemnly and stood by the door with a tired and worried sigh. He entered the quiet room, not bothering with a second glance.

This room, like the rest of Lando's mansion, had a theme about it based off of the dark stained wood walls. It was comforting, actually. Not sterile like the stark white of most embassies, but not gilded in lavish velvet and bright gold like the overly formal palace that had just been ripped from them. Leia stood facing the dark window, hand against her lips in thought, but she wasn't alone in the room. He could barely spot her, but BB's nose and eyes stuck out from under a nearby chair. He was told that the dog had caught a ride with the Queen and basically saved herself from the chaos, and though she had been shook up ever since, she still vibrated in delight at seeing her master.

Poe offered a tight smile to BB before his eyes trailed across the floor and up to Leia. At length, he watched her bite her lip in the window's reflection. “Still no news on Han?” He didn't answer the quiet inquiry, knowing good and well she would find out before he would. When it was obvious his answer wouldn't come, she clenched the hand against her chin. “This is my fault.”

He closed his eyes. “No, it's not.”

“We sheltered him too much,” she spoke to the glass. “ _I_ sheltered him, too afraid of another attack.”

“You didn't make him a paranoid jackass,” Poe muttered, looking down to his feet again, thinking on how filthy he was at the moment. “What about anyone else from the palace? What about Finn?”

“Nothing,” she shook her head, hand going to her neck. “Did you see him?”

Poe scuffed his shoe against the carpeted floor. “He was shot.”

Leia turned to him suddenly, looking taken aback and shocked. “Poe, I'm sor-”

“I said he _got_ _shot._ He's not _dead_ ,” he grumbled back, frowning at the floor. “That fucker made me promise to not blame myself if things went bad. You shouldn't either.” Poe never spoke to Leia with this much vulgarity before, but _good God_ he didn't care right now.

She folded her arms, not bothered at all by his language. “Blaming Ben or anyone else, even ourselves, is all well and good, but-”

“ _Fuck_ _Ben!_ ” Poe snapped, suddenly and harshly that he even surprised himself with the outburst. “He might be the scum of this Earth, but he's still a fucking kid, Leia! I blame the same motherfucker I've always blamed! _Always!_ ”

“Poe-” she warned, anger suddenly spreading across her face.

“ _No, Leia!_ ” he screamed back, on a roll now and pointing at her. “You _know_ it! You know it as well as I do! _He's_ the one that left us like this! _He's_ the reason all of this fucking shit is happening to me! My life is fucking _ruined_ because of him! I can't fucking _live_ like this!”

“Stop it!” In two strides, Leia stepped forward.

“ _Luke is nothing but a fucking **coward** and you damn well know-!”_

She slapped him across the face. Hard.

It didn't hurt as much as he would have liked it to, but Poe didn't move from the twisted angle she had knocked him in, his words turned to silence just as quickly as they were pouring out of him. “Every sacrifice he's made was for his country and his people,” she hissed at him lowly. “ _You_ know that. He _saved us_ , Poe.”

 _He's the reason I never knew my father_ , is what he would like to say. He would also like to point out how very unsafe they all were at the moment, but Poe didn't dare speak up to her again.

Leia turned away from him then, hands to her head as she walked towards the desk. Out of the corner of his eyes, Poe saw BB slowly approaching him, ears back and frightened. He didn't bother looking to her. In fact, he would much prefer to remain in this state of numb silence until the end of time, but people counted on him. People counted on him. Finn still counted on him. Poe closed his eyes tight, taking a shaking breath to bring himself back to the situation at hand, right before a knock sounded at the door.

Rey knew not to let anyone in unless it was _important,_ but Leia's voice beat him to it. “Come in!”

Lando rushed in, holding the door long enough for one of his guard's to follow him and and for Poe to just barely catch a glimpse of Rey holding a hand over her eyes before the entrance fell shut again. “Leia...” Calrissian spoke quietly, looking both serious and sympathetic as he approached them cautiously. “He knew about your team as soon as they managed to get into the palace.”

Leia stepped forward, worry seeping into her usually calm demeanor. “They were ambushed?”

“We don't know,” Lando shook his head. “As soon as we got the report, comms went out again. But Leia, when they realized what we were doing, they ordered an airstrike.”

“Here?”

“On your Capitol. They passed over less than two minutes ago.” Poe sucked in a breath, surprised that he could actually feel the air leaving his body again, surprised that he could feel anything right now. Lando licked his lips. “The captain we sent in counted eight harrier jets from his view point alone before we lost contact.”

He could hear Leia's stunned voice behind him. “They ordered an airstrike on the city that they're _in_?”

“To remind us that they have leverage, yes.”

It was Poe who swallowed and finally voiced the only thought going through his mind. “The damage?”

Calrissian's shoulders slumped forward. “From what our satellites can see, the palace still looks to be intact. The church looks to be mostly destroyed, but the embassies and Capitol building are gone-”

“ _Fuck_ the landmarks,” Poe hissed. “I'm talking about the people. What are our causalities?”

“That's what I'm trying to tell you, kid,” Lando responded, though not harshly.

All because of him. Thousands, if not millions of innocent lives lost all because of him. Poe's arm began to shake, and he grabbed it at the elbow before sinking back into the nearest chair's armrest. He can't break now. He can't.

Leia leaned against the desk, allowing it to hold her up, as she levelly asked, “Did they report anything before the bombs fell?”

“They recovered what sensitive information they could find,” he sighed, suddenly looking very much his age, “and destroyed anything they couldn't take with them or was too risky to move.”

“... And Han?”

“No, Leia. I'm sorry.” Lando closed his eyes, shook his head again. “No trace on any of your people of interest right now.”

Nothing on Finn. Poe clenched his fist, forcing his arm to stop shaking. “We need to retaliate.”

To her credit, Leia at least paused before answering. “We can't risk open war.”

“We're _already_ at war.”

“They didn't get harrier jets by holding out their hands,” she argued, “They have alliances.”

“So do we.”

“I won't bring our people into this-”

“Our people are _already-!_ ”

“And I won't bring other countries into it either!” she finished, raising her voice over his. “We know where the primary targets are. We destroy the palace.”

“No,” Poe was quick to argue and stood again to full height. “We can draw them out-”

“Drawing them out will cost lives,” she told him. “Drawing _any of this out_ will cost lives.”

“Finn and Han are still in there.”

“My _son_ is in there.”

“That's not your _son!_ That's a fucking _monster!_ ”

“I will not risk war to my people!”

They didn't have time to argue. They didn't have the fucking time to be doing this. “They brought the war to us! It's the only way to make sure we kill them! It's too high of a chance for them to escape just like we did! And to risk another move like that is to risk another raid, probably on another city! You want to throw away people's lives? _That's_ the way to do it!”

“I am your _Queen!_ ” she snapped back with such ferocity in her stamina that Poe couldn't help but be temporarily stunned. “You don't get to make this call. I do.”

Poe snarled at the threat. “If you don't make the right call, if you get more people killed, then I'll _take_ your fucking Crown and finish this myself.” And he could. By Leia's own lies, no one could stop him. He didn't want it, but if it could save lives, _save Finn's life_ , then he'd subject himself to the slavery in a heartbeat. Though, he dared not think on what Leia and Lando already knew, that it had been three hours since the siege, that Finn and Han had been missing for too long.

She pushed herself from the desk as if to make a move but instead just did nothing and stared at Poe with disdain in her eyes... Then she glanced across the room curiously.

Poe followed her line of sight to the guard that Lando had brought in. His hand was to the wire in his ear, listening to something on the other end, a hand held out to his President to signal that this was news that needed to be repeated. Within the second, the message must have ended. “We've gotten contact with the team,” he announced to them, “They've retreated and are heading back.”

“All of them?” Lando asked.

“Just four,” he told them, meaning out of the nine man group. “Some were killed in an altercation. Others in one of the bombings. But they're heavy one member of The Royal Guard in critical condition. They said he was second-in-command.”

It was like a shock ran through his body. “Finn?”

“They didn't give a name.”

But Leia at least seemed to sigh with relief. “It's Finn.”

Lando turned back to the guard. “Get medical prepped.”

“They're already on it,” the man answered back, “but they don't expect him to survive the trip here. Multiple gunshot wounds, one close to the heart. They found him unconscious.”

 _I left him. I left him. I left him._ “Lando, they need air support,” Poe managed to speak.

Calrissian nodded. “Have our men meet them at our borders.”

“Yes, sir.”

* * *

Both Leia and Poe decided it was best, for now, to keep an eye on the situation and wait. The people in the Capitol needed help and sanctuary, but there was nothing to be done to help them without invading the city. Fortunately, they were getting help from stragglers and off-duty members of the Crown's military, even if it was just supplies and rescues. Ben's group didn't extend outside of the palace walls it seemed, but everyone was terrified of the army that held jets like that.

Whatever information the Spec Ops team could provide was far too crucial to simply ignore and make a move without. Normally, Poe would be completely and totally against such a decision. _Waiting_ was painful. _Waiting_ was torture. But no one was dying right now while the enemy sat inside their home and plotted against their country. Though the palace had been taken, the city and country was not, despite propaganda declaring the Queen and Prince both dead. So there was hope yet. Leia wanted to send a message to her people, to at least show proof that they were alive, but even that was too risky and the idea kept getting thrown back and forth.

In regards to all of that, Poe didn't give a damn anymore. They wouldn't allow him to leave the mansion, so Rey stood by his side the whole time he stared out of the window, waiting for a chopper to appear. When it did, when it was confirmed Finn was _still_ alive, he tried to get to him. He tried to see him. Just a glimpse, just a brush of his hand, just an apology- but they wouldn't let him through.

So he waited. And waited. And waited. “I'm sorry I'm such a jackass, Rey,” he muttered from his spot on the floor, looking every bit the part of a scared child with his knees pulled to his chest, face hidden, and BB resting against him ever since he had left Leia.

She stood beside him, he knew without looking, as she slowly asked, “... What?”

“I don't blame you,” he answered, just trying to breathe and not think. “You were doing your job. You saved my life. I'm sorry. This is my fault.” Whatever Finn had thought, whatever promises Poe made, this was on him.

“Poe,” she sighed, “I'd prefer you blame me, if that's the case.”

He looked up to her, surprised and... kind of touched, when the door to their room opened. Finn was alive, the doctor told them, and no longer in critical condition. But his heart was still at risk since the bullet grazed so close. The doctor said that it was a miracle he survived at all, especially after the shot to one of his lungs. They think he passed out from blood loss or something, otherwise the enemy would have most certainly killed him if his lung collapsing hadn't done the job first. A miracle, they all kept saying. A miracle.

Until further notice, Finn was placed under a medically induced coma to allow his heart to heal with constant observation in case anything went wrong with the surgery. A _fucking_ miracle to survive all of that only to have the strong possibility of dying in his damn sleep.

Poe thought it would be hard for him to walk in, to see Finn again. He thought he might break down and freak out. But instead, it was like nothing had changed. Seeing him again was like everything was _finally_ back to normal.

Rey stood by the door, making sure no one else walked in. For the moment, in this tiny room with the constant beeping of a heart monitor, it was only them. And Finn looked so calm, he looked _okay_ laying against the white sheets. He was bruised though, cut up, like a lot more happened since they last saw each other.

_I left-_

In a couple of strides, Poe was at his side, squeezing on to Finn's hand and willing him to wake up despite this being best for him. He just needed him to wake up right now. He needed to see those eyes and that smile and be told that Finn would never leave-

_I left him. I left him._

He began to tremble again, but stowed it away as best he could, trying to keep strength for the unconscious man before him. Releasing a held breath, Poe sat on the bed next to him, hearing BB's jingle as she jumped up and planted herself at Finn's feet.

Without thinking on it, Poe's hand moved on it's own, resting against Finn's heart over the medical gown. Faintly, he could feel a pumping rhythm, but most of his comfort came from the steady rising and falling of Finn's chest. At the tips of his fingers, he could feel bandaging... His hand moved forwards, pulling the collar of the gown down just an inch or two to see whatever he could.

That bullet was meant for Poe. That bullet was supposed to kill him, but it nearly took Finn away instead.

He wanted to apologize but how? How could he apologize for something like this? Finn wasn't even supposed to be here, wasn't ever supposed to be in Poe's life at all- His hand moved of it's own accord again, lightly tracing a darkening bruise on Finn's jaw, before freezing at the sight of blood on his lips and corner of his mouth. He had been coughing up blood.

_A miracle._

_I left him._

Poe's thumb traced along Finn's bottom lip, gently rubbing away the flakes of red and letting his hand move to rest against his cheek, fingers tracing lightly in soothing arcs over his skin... Completely forgetting that Rey was in the room, Poe leaned forward and rested his forehead against Finn's. Whether his tears were of pain or relief, he couldn't tell anymore.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this whole chapter while being exhausted, so I apologize if the quality is lower than usual. At least we have a few more answers now, right?
> 
> Anyway, I just want you guys to know that I'll probably be pretty busy this weekend, but I'm still going to try to get some updates out. I love you guys SO MUCH! The response to the last chapter was CRAZY! I know there was a lot I could have done with Finn's situation, but there's still stuff left to handle for these idiots.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading. I love you guys so much. Thank you, thank you. ♥


	17. Chapter 17

Finn's primary objective now was to provide cover and survive. It sounded much easier than his earlier task of scrambling blindly to find Poe, but it was actually a little harder than it looked. Especially with that gunshot wound in his chest. Especially with that bullet still in there somewhere. Especially with his Prince screaming and cursing and clawing when they were pulled apart. Finn couldn't risk Poe doing something stupid to save him now, and he certainly couldn't risk dying on the helicopter with him. God, he couldn't express how badly he didn't want Poe to see that. Maybe his Prince didn't feel the same intensity for him, but there was still a love there, still a strong bond, and Poe was too good of a man.

The first thing he did was take the comm unit off of Muran's body to patch in with whoever else was still alive. Han said that Leia _was_ secure, and Finn believed it since there was no chatter about her. He didn't actually relax until reports came in that Poe had escaped, too. That's around the time his wound started to hurt. Like _really_ hurt.

Why the hell did they let him have this job? The only time he had been in something like this was back in the hotel, and it wasn't at all this bad. That was the only other time he'd ever killed people before, too. He had never been shot either, unless that graze in his arm counted and it didn't. He was a goddamn kid, practically still fresh from college, and _he_ was tasked with protecting one of the Royals in a time of crisis? Really? What the hell had Leia seen in him?

Maybe she knew more about himself than he did. Maybe she knew he'd take a bullet for Poe before even speaking to him.

_Well, she was right_ , Finn thought to himself, straggling through the Guard's Station in the direction his Prince disappeared, keeping close to the walls as he went. With Poe safe, all he had to do was get out. Hopefully. Eventually. Really, his objective should be to find Ben and kill him, but he was already injured and he'd never get close enough.

But if he could, despite whatever may happen to him once the job was done, it would put an end to all of this. Ben- _Kylo Ren_ was their royalty, their Prince. With him dead, the entire point of this siege would be void. They'd have no claim with both Royals still alive. Finn remembered how they wanted to televise Poe's execution. Just him, not Leia. So long as Kylo was alive, Poe wouldn't be safe.

“Fuck,” Finn snapped lowly, trying hard to not think about what would happen to him afterward. Where the hell would Kylo even be? Throne room? Armory? Bunker?

_-copter has been shot down._ Before he could even decide on a move, Finn pressed the comm to his ear, heart pounding painfully. _Repeat, the Prince's helicopter has been shot down._

No. No. No, no, no- Finn was on the move, forcing his legs to go faster than he thought he could right now. _There's reports the Queen's been shot down-_ “No,” he muttered to himself, trying to go as fast as he could to the original rendezvous for the helicopters, “No, no, no, no, no-”

They weren't the typical transports but fully armed tactical helicopters that wouldn't be shot down easily. Unless it was surface-to-arm missiles, but it was too soon; they should have still been in the country. Who would have set something like that up ahead of time? Who would have shot at helicopters with the royal seal? Were Ben's men that widespread and prepared? They couldn't be. It was clear that they only attacked now because Phasma had been found out. They couldn't have been as ready as they seemed. It couldn't be true. It wasn't true. Poe was alive.

_Fuck,_ he hurt. His chest stung, _burned._ But he couldn't stop. He couldn't. He couldn't. What he had planned to do once getting there was anybody's guess, but Finn crashed through the doors all the same, coming face to face with the gardens where the choppers definitely had been.

He didn't know where they would have taken the Royals, so he certainly didn't know where to look, but it hadn't been long since they got off the ground. He would see it. It was a lie. It had to be a lie. It had to- Why would they lie?

A gunshot- It felt like a knife just plunged through his ribs. Finn staggered from the shock, but recovered quickly enough and spun around on his heel from where the sound came. Three men. He shot the one closest in the center of his chest, the second in the head. He didn't get to the third in time. That one had an automatic and had shot long before Finn could retaliate. The one to his stomach just felt like ice sinking in and burning through his flesh, but the one to his breastbone actually knocked him back, losing his balance. There were more shots. He heard two, maybe three as he fell.

He expected more once he was on the cold marble floor of the balcony – didn't feel hitting that either – but nothing else came. Finn was cold, his vision darkening, and _shit_ this is it. He could hardly breathe anymore. Every exhale seemed to wrack a pathetic cough from his body.

That hotel- It was only a week ago. All of this, everything, was just within the last _week_. His life, everything he knew and lived for and fought for, had been made over in that one week. He remembered eating ice cream with Poe just the night before. Just twenty-four hours ago. He felt like Dameron, Poe's real father. He felt like everything was worthless, that time had just repeated itself, but he remembered last night and knew that it wasn't worthless. Not a second of it was worthless.

He had to be okay. He had to be. It wasn't fair. It wasn't _fucking_ _fair._

Finn closed his eyes – remembering what it felt like to hold Poe in his arms – and realized he didn't have the strength to open them again.

* * *

He couldn't feel anything. No pain. No discomfort. _I'm dead._

_Poe's dead._

It took strength, way more than he felt, but Finn stubbornly opened his eyes to a dimly lit room. It smelled sterile and something was beeping beside him. A hospital? Is he _not_ dead? But he was so cold before. So cold... His entire body felt heavy. Everything just felt so heavy, but he still wasn't hurting.

Finn took a deep breath, experimenting, but his body wouldn't let the air in as much as he would have liked. Everything felt _tight_ and- Had he mentioned heavy? He tried moving his body a little to figure out if the rest of him still worked at all, realizing that his mind was moving so slowly right now. He's drugged. He must be. This is a hospital. It looks like a hospital. Is he in the palace? Did Kylo's men capture him? Did they patch him up to get information from him?

Faintly, very faintly because he could hardly notice anything, he felt something in his hand when his fingers twitched and curled. His eyes roamed over, then slowly his head when he realized that was another hand and this was a person and- Poe was snoring. It was light, breathy, but he had only just noticed that someone was there with him, practically hanging from the bed in the chair he fell asleep in, hand clutched like a lifeline to his, terribly and irrevocably _alive_ -

He tried speaking, voice just coming out like a silent scratch. Finn swallowed dryly, trying again even if it hurt, “Poe...” Finn held his hand tight with all the strength he had, tugging on him. _“Poe...”_

His Prince jolted awake, his hand latching so tight to Finn's, but instead he just groaned and rubbed at his eyes. There was a second where he glanced up to the heart monitor, then down to their joined hands in shock, before looking up to him with a gaping mouth and dark spots beneath his eyes. “Finn!” Poe jumped to stand a little too fast for the guard to follow at the moment, and then there were hands to his shoulders. “Christ, Finn, they didn't tell me you'd wake up- Are you all right? Are you in pain? Are you okay? Fucking _hell_ , Finn, I'm so sorry. I am so fucking sorry. Do you need anything? Do you-”

Finn grabbed his arm as tight as he could. Poe's hands digging into his shoulders felt like blades from how hard he was gripping at him, shaking. But he was still holding back whatever he felt. His Prince looked like he could break down at any moment, eyes large and terrified, waiting with baited breath for Finn to speak. And hell, he really didn't want Poe to worry about him right now. He looked so torn apart. “They-” His voice was small, scratching through him like sand. “They said... you were shot down...”

It must have been a trap for him. With Han dead and the Royals gone, he was the last remaining target on ground. But there had been just enough doubt there...

Poe was shaking harder, staring down at him like he was something horrifying. It took a moment, but he clenched his jaw and shut his eyes tight, visibly trying to breathe. “I'm-” Poe opened his eyes, looking no better. “I'm okay. I'm-... _Fuck_ , Finn, why-”

“I'm all right,” he tried to speak in a harsh whisper, but Poe looked like he was hanging on every sound. He remembered the funeral, remembered how desperately Poe didn't want people hurt because of him, and now the entire palace- Finn reached his hand further up, using his fingers to help his heavy arm crawl. “I don't hurt. I'm okay... Thought you were-... Thought something happened...”

His Prince shook his head. “No, nothing- Nothing happened. I'm here. I-” Poe bit his lip, a terrible frown marring his beautiful face. “I left you.”

No. Finn gripped his arm. “I made you leave.”

“You _promised_.”

“And I'm here.” That wasn't supposed to be their promise, though. Poe wasn't supposed to feel guilt like this but now look at him. This is Finn's fault. “You said you wouldn't feel guilty.”

“You said you wouldn't leave.”

“I _didn't._ ” But how could he make him see that this went deeper than that? “No matter what, I'm here... Understand?” He couldn't know. “I'm not leaving you, but you can't feel bad.” Maybe he just wasn't making sense. The room was getting darker, and Finn fought to stay. “Do you know? Do you understand?”

Poe's hand grabbed his before it could approach his shoulder. “Don't do that again. Don't make me leave you behind.”

“No...” He had to. There was no other option. “You're too important to me...”

“ _God_ , don't say-” Poe seemed to choke before lowering further, better to be in Finn's reach. And maybe he should have felt bad for saying something like that – he knew that Poe didn't feel the same way – but his Prince had to understand. “This is never happening again, all right? I can't keep doing this.”

“Don't feel bad...” His mind felt like a mess with voices from memory replaying over Poe's voice in the present. He couldn't tell where he was anymore, who he was with, what had happened, and he felt himself drifting into the dark when something tugged him back by the hand.

He opened his eyes, Poe leaning over him, terrified, a hand to his face. “Finn, hey-”

“'Mmkay,” he tried to tell him, not liking that worry. “Tired...”

“I'll get someone,” Poe said, like he had just remembered that other people existed. “With Han still missing, everyone's freaking out. It's okay, buddy. I'll find someone.”

Wait. “Han.” Finn didn't let go of Poe's hand. It wasn't a strong grip, but the other seemed to know that it was meant to be and didn't leave him. But he couldn't see his Prince anymore. Could hardly feel his hand. Everything was just so heavy. “Han's... dead... Ben...” And he couldn't remember anything after that.

* * *

Poe shook Rey awake. It was a shame, really. The poor girl had slept like a log through the whole exchange, likely exhausted to the bone, but he couldn't leave Finn alone like this. Once he left her rubbing the sleep from her eyes, assuring her that he wouldn't go far, he stepped out of the room and snatched the first person he saw, telling them that Finn had woken in the night.

They had grabbed a nurse, and he told Poe that this was a good thing. It meant he was healing well, that his mind was still intact after such a traumatizing experience, and that he didn't lose as much blood as they initially thought. Finn would wake again within the next day, he said, probably for good. He would still need time to heal, his lung and heart still needed to be looked after, but this was a good sign. A great sign. “A higher chance that he'll make it,” were the nurse's words.

His next stop was the comm center, the war room. Leia had met with the Spec Ops team, gathering valuable information, and it looked like bombing the palace was exactly what would happen next. She was planning it ahead, he knew. It was still a stupid idea. Knowing what he knew now, it was still a really bad idea. It would never work. But he wasn't here to argue again.

He stopped on the threshold, noticing how the room wasn't exactly bustling. Just Leia, Lando, and a few of their generals surrounding a computer, talking in hushed tones. He caught someone's eye, one of Lando's men, then they all turned toward him. Without a word, he waved for Leia to come over and stepped away.

It took a moment, understandably, but she did appear around the corner he'd hidden behind. “Finn?”

Poe looked at her, realizing that she had expected the worst about his condition. Right. He didn't think about that. “He woke up,” he said instead, glancing to the floor. “It wasn't for long, but he talked and knew who I was and everything. The nurse said it was good. That he'll wake up again in a few hours probably.”

Her shoulders slightly lowered in relief. “That's good. That's wonderful.”

Poe nodded and decided to get to the point. “He said that-... I don't know what happened. He wasn't clear. But he... said that Han didn't make it."

He couldn't look at her, coward that he was, but Leia didn't seem to react with the appropriate amount of surprise and shock. “... He saw him?”

And here's the kicker- “He said Ben did it.”

Maybe he shouldn't have said anything. Finn was heavily drugged and slipping back into sleep. But Finn wasn't one to just blurt things out either. It was true, he knew it was true, but it didn't make this easier. In fact, it was still very much a shock. This entire thing was still such a shock. None of it could be true.

Maybe he shouldn't have said anything, though.

“I knew it,” she said quietly, hand moving over her mouth then over her eyes and forehead. “I knew it. I didn't-... _Dammit_...”

Han had been the only male figure in his life while growing up, Poe realized. He should feel a lot worse than he did. But he was so tired and torn and broken, and the _thought something had happened_ and the _you're too important to me_ kept fighting for dominance in his mind. Guilt weighed against pain weighed against regret weighed against heartbreak. He couldn't take anything else. “I'm sorry, Leia.” He'll feel it later.

Leia, at length, put her arm down and let out a sigh. “We're going to destroy the palace tomorrow.”

“I know.” And it was stupid. So fucking stupid. “I should be there, but I don't agree. I'll just fuck up your mission.”

“I know.”

“If this fails, and we have to invade, I'll handle it.”

“I know.” After a beat, she added, “But it won't fail.”

Poe sighed tiredly, wanting to get back to Finn. “He'll escape.”

“Invading will cost lives.”

“Destroying the palace _and_ invading will cost more, but the latter will get the job done.” Hopefully. They still didn't know about enemy alliances. They had no idea what kind of army was against them. The sneakier approach was a safer bet, but it wouldn't work. Not in Poe's mind. Not with him knowing the sadistic bastard that Ben was.

Another beat, then she spoke, “We'll see.”

Yeah. He swallowed, “But I agree on making their propaganda null. We should tell the people we're alive.” Because Finn thought he was dead. Because Finn's first words were to ask if _he_ was okay. “I want to do it,” he said, finally actually looking at Leia, seeing that she seemed as tired as he felt. “I want to be the one to do it, I mean. Ben did all of this to get at me. I want to tell them that he didn't win.”

Leia looked at him, studying him for a moment then nodding. “Okay... We'll make it happen before the attack... I need to get back, Poe.”

He nodded, too, but grabbed her hand just as she turned away. “Leia...” Poe blinked and made himself look at her again. “Really. I am sorry.”

“Not now,” she closed her eyes and shook her head. “Later... But thank you. I'm sorry, too, Poe.”

They released each other, and he watched her walk away, wondering why _she_ was apologizing. Han didn't die because of her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A rather short chapter, but Finn's scenes ran longer than they were supposed to, which made me cut this one shorter. Don't fret. Those scenes will be in next chapter. Anyway, Christ, I guess I'll go ahead and thank you guys again. Like, seriously, I love you all so much. The people who comment, the people who leave kudos, the people who just stalk and read, just THANK YOU so much. You guys are amazing.
> 
> Two things! First, as some of you know, I take stormpilot fic requests on tumblr. I have a few of them still sitting in my inbox, and I just want to tell you that I HAVE NOT FORGOTTEN! Between school and work, I don't have time to write, so when I do have time, I write this. Whenever I get bored of it, then I'll go for another fic prompt. That said, if you want to leave a prompt, too, go send a request on my tumblr. It'll happen eventually. Promise.
> 
> Second thing... Fan art would be amazing, and I haven't gotten it out of my head for the last two days, I'm just saying. I'm so sorry.


	18. Chapter 18

The next time Finn woke up, there was no doubt in his mind that he was alive. Everything hurt – literally everything – but Poe was there with him again, and he couldn't show it. The doctor still gave him something though, and everything felt dull and heavy again but thankfully not as strong as last time. Even before the meds kicked in, the pain was hell but tolerable. Under certain degrees.

They explained the surgery he'd undergone, the stress to his heart and lungs that they were keeping an eye on. Finn thought that a bit unnecessary. He hadn't been shot in the heart; it just came close. But he went with it, anyway. They also told him to lay off on strenuous activity for the next few weeks or months, and it was all he could do to not laugh in their face. His primary concern was not pulling out those stitches. Other than that, he was fine. Tired. Hurting. But fine.

Poe was not fine. Physically, he was okay by some miracle. The stress of the situation was eating at him, though. Finn could see it. Why he was bothering to stay by his side and not with Leia governing their armies, it was anyone's guess.

After about an hour of being awake and getting cleared for other visitors by a doctor (and by Poe, who took this new development with gritted teeth), Leia came by to see him. He even sat up against the bed frame to speak with her, despite the stream of agitated disapproval from his Prince. She didn't stay long, merely checking on him, making sure everything was fine. Eventually, she got around to asking what he recalled from the siege, and he told her how Han had died. She took it as a statue might and thanked him, both for the explanation and for his service, before leaving.

She was as bad off as Poe was.

When it was just the two of them, with BB-8 lounging over his feet and Rey out in the hall somewhere, Poe stood up from his chair and walked slowly to the foot of Finn's bed, a seriousness on his face while he fidgeted with his hands. “Leia wants to destroy the palace,” his Prince said quietly, bracing himself against the footboard. Finn raised his head to attention, wondering when they were finally going to let him in on what happened next. “It won't work,” Poe continued, not looking to him, “They'll escape like we did. We should invade the city and make sure it's done right.”

Good point. “But Leia wants to destroy the palace,” Finn said, knowing what was happening already.

“Yeah,” Poe nodded. “They're attacking tonight... It won't work.”

Finn frowned. “What happens when it doesn't work?” It could, though.

“We invade,” the other answered assuredly, finally locking eyes. “I've already talked to Leia. The invasion's mine to lead. I just can't do it right now.”

“But your planning it.”

“Yeah,” he said again, then scratching his head. “Well... yeah. I mean, it's starting to come together. I have a plan at least. Too much can go wrong, though. We need to finish it as fast as we can. Save lives.”

“People will die with either option. More people will die with both.” It was a hurtful truth, but it was one that Poe already knew. Finn continued, “This is better, though, in the long run. When this one fails, _if_ it fails, they won't expect a large-scale invasion. That would have been your first move, so if you try to bomb, they'll think you don't have the resources and capabilities. This way, we'll take them by surprise, unlike if we do it right now.”

Poe gripped the bed's railing, head hung and shoulders jutting through his shirt. He was tired and worn and hurt, but he was still fighting. There was strength left, a lot of it. “I hope so. I hope you're right... Hell, maybe this'll work and nothing will happen.” His Prince sighed and looked up to Finn again. “I'm addressing the country in a couple of hours, tell them I'm alive. We'll send it to a news station, have them play it and claim we hacked their airways-”

Finn, who had been frowning more and more with every word of that last idea, finally interjected. “You're going to tell the bad guys that you're _alive?_ ”

“They know I'm alive,” Poe argued. “It's the people that don't. It's important, Finn. They need to know we're okay. If the people give up, we'll lose this.”

Sure, there was _no way_ that could go wrong... Finn leaned back with a defeated groan, trying not to wince when he rubbed one of his still fresh wounds against the backboard. He adjusted the pillow like it was an afterthought, not wanting Poe to rush to his needs, while thinking. “If you're going to do that, and I _hate it_ by the way,” he grumbled, “but if you're going to do it, you need to play some sort of tune in the background. A song or melody or something.”

His Prince gave him a look, making Finn wonder if those drugs were fucking with him again or not. “A... song?”

“You're going to air this before the attack tonight, right?” Poe nodded, looking still very much lost. The other just waved his hand absently. “Play it right before the bombing. Then, when we have to invade, play that song again. Give people a head's up without telling the assholes that we're attacking. It could save some people. Make our causalities less.”

Poe blinked at him. “Oh...” He blinked again, looking down to the blankets. “Finn, that was way out of left field.”

Laughing hurt. “Sorry.”

“No, no... It could work, though. It might help.” Poe managed a small twitch of his lips that almost looked like a smile, but it vanished as quick as it came. “There's a lot I still need to do, though. We're never going to get close enough to that prick if we have an army rush in.”

But his Prince wasn't lost in thought about it, which made Finn worry a little. “What do you have in mind?”

Poe bit his lip, obviously stalling, before saying, “I need to send Rey away.”

Wha- “You want _her_ to sneak into the palace?” Finn expected for Poe to say he was going to go himself, but this was a twist.

Yet, his Prince was shaking his head. “No, I need to-” Then he groaned, rubbing a hand over his face. “Finn, I need to tell you something... Another... royal secret something.”

Oh. Oh fuck. “I literally don't think my heart can take another one,” Finn answered blandly, tired of these fucking life-altering secrets floating around.

“It's the last one, I promise.”

“I assumed the _last one_ was the _last one_.”

“Well, this really is the last one. I swear-”

“Fine. Just fine,” Finn groaned, rubbing his hands against his face, “Fuck you. Just tell me. Rip the bandaid off. Just say it. I don't care anymore.”

“Luke's alive.”

“Luke who?”

Poe stared at him, and a long moment passed while Finn just stared back, waiting for an answer. When none came, he started racking his mind for any Luke's he knew. “No, seriously. Who's-” And then it hit him like a freight train. But that can't be right. There were soldiers among soldiers who took the palace back, a funeral that literally went on for weeks, mourners everywhere. Anyone alive at the time could tell you where they were when they heard the King had died.

Internally, Finn was asking why would he fake his death? Was he okay? Where was he? Who else knew that he still lived? Was Poe's father alive, too? What other bits of history never happened or was covered up?

Externally, he stared, practically drooling at his Prince. Finn blinked hard, trying to figure out which concern to voice first, until he finally broke the silence. _“What the fuck, Poe!?”_ He can't deal with this fucking family.

“All right, all right! Look!” Not offended somehow, Poe raised his hands in defense and walked around the bed until he was sitting against Finn's legs again. “It was all part of a plan that Luke and Leia made up ages ago,” he began, the guard just staring at him like this was a circus attraction. “Ever since Luke took the throne from the Empire, a lot of people wanted him dead, yeah? Even more people were getting caught in the crossfire, so he decided to fake his death and get rid of the enemy attacks, and it _worked_ but... not to plan... Like, they were going to do it the next time there was an attack, even my father and mother were in on it, but the next attack was... _the invasion_ and it-... It just didn't go to plan. My father acted as decoy and died in his stead.”

There's that word again. _Decoy._ And Poe said it so casually that Finn wanted to scream. Just talking about his father's death like it wasn't a massively big deal. Like any of it was fair. How did Poe ever turn out like this? How did he ever become such a good man? This life seemed like hell.

Okay. Okay, no. Fuck. No. Finn closed his eyes, trying to get away from that line of conversation for now. Poe wasn't upset about it, so he wasn't about to poke around with it. But... _fuck_. Right, anyway- “How is Luke supposed to help, again?”

“When he took the throne,” Poe continued, like he was just waiting for Finn to process all of this, “he made some changes to the palace, including several King's Roads and hidden passages. Even Leia doesn't know about a lot of them.”

Great. “Why do we need to send Rey away?”

“To find him.”

“They make phones, Poe.”

“He's hiding,” his Prince sighed. “No one knows where he is. I don't even know if he's actually alive. I just have theories.”

This was... the biggest long shot Finn had ever seen. “Leia will never agree to this,” he groaned, opening his eyes again.

“Leia won't know.” Oh. Of course it was like that. Finn rubbed at his eyes. “I get it's crazy, but-”

“What if she doesn't find him in time?”

“Then... we'll have a contingency in place...” _A contingency..._ Finn sighed, not liking the sound of that, but Poe continued. “What do you think?”

“I think it's far-fetched as hell,” he answered honestly, wondering why he was being asked his opinion at all. After a beat, though, he decided to go back on that statement. “But if it works-... I don't know. It'll be worth it, if it works... But we should send a team. Cover more ground.”

“No one else knows about this,” Poe frowned. “Rey's the only one I trust.”

… Finn could admit, that made sense. “It's a good idea... It's worth it, but... Rey's your bodyguard right now. You can't just give her up.” With him practically bed ridden, unless he wanted to face his Prince's nagging wrath, Rey was the last line of defense. A very critical, very important last line.

But Poe just frowned, looking for all the world confused. “ _You're_ my bodyguard.” And why the fuck was he looking like he had just been kicked? Finn felt bad, but he was about to argue the point anyway for his Prince's own safety, when Poe bit his lip and looked down to the floor. Suddenly all that hurt and pain came back to him, physically weighing him down. “Look, I-” Finn didn't think he could take it if Poe apologized for leaving again, but his Prince gripped the sheets and mumbled. “I'm sorry for kissing you.”

Finn was just about to point out _again_ how Poe was left with no choice but to leave, when the apology struck him. He froze, straightening up, blinking. No, wait. That- That wasn't- “What?”

Just then, for some unholy reason, Rey briskly walked into the room. “I spoke with the Queen,” she began, closing the door, “Poe, she says if you want to make that address, then you need to freshen up a litt-... Hello?”

Finn stared at Poe who stared at Rey. The sole woman in the room looked between them both. “What? What is it? Are you two okay?”

“Um,” the Prince mumbled, eventually clearing his throat. “Yeah, yeah. It's- Okay. Yeah.” Poe stood, walking towards the door and grabbing Rey's arm at the same time. “I'm gonna get dressed, but I need you to do something really important, okay?”

As Poe opened the door and ushered her out in the hall with him, Finn faintly heard her ask, “Are you blushing?” before the door closed back and left him alone. His Prince hadn't even looked at him, as he practically ran away.

Why-? Okay, granted that Poe was apologizing a lot lately over things that weren't his fault, but that one really and obviously was not _his_ fault. Why did he feel the need to apologize? Was he apologizing for the weak moment? But it- It wasn't his fault... And Rey had to walk in and the exact _wrong_ time.

Finn looked up at the heart monitor then to the clock. After running out like that, Poe was probably not going to be coming back any time soon. He had enough going on in his head right now, and that was the last thing he had to feel bad about. Not to mention that Finn wasn't going to miss this address for the world.

Before he could get a proper plan together, he heard Rey's voice ring through the walls, _“HE'S ALIVE!?”_ followed by Poe's very loud hushing... This fucking family...

* * *

It took a lot of bargaining and hustling and throwing his rank around, but Finn eventually had leave of his makeshift medical room. Getting his shirt on was the hardest part, but he managed it with the help of a nurse. No bending, no twisting, no running, no jogging, no stretching, no walking, no breathing, just lay there, don't move- Maybe they were scared of the Prince's bodyguard getting even more injured under their care, but hell, he was going stir crazy with all of their rules. He was _fine._

Ten steps down the hall proved that, nope, he was not fine. Whatever they gave him was still happily buzzing away in the back of his mind, but the burning of his wounds made him stop and rest halfway to his destination. He didn't want to walk up to Poe sweating through his clothes and panting. That wouldn't help him get free of this pampering nonsense. Under normal circumstances, he'd go with it, but this wasn't normal. His Prince was still very much in danger, and if Rey was getting sent away, well- Maybe someone could take him out by stomping on his foot at just the right angle, but dammit if he wasn't going to be there to act as meat shield anyway.

Just so long as Poe didn't know that...

Upon finally arriving at his destination, Finn let out a held breath and opened the door as casually as humanly possible.

Poe honestly looked better than he had all morning. He looked clean for one, and sharp as a tack as he put on that suit. Light gray slacks, dark shoes, white button down shirt- A light gray vest with a filigree design stitched into the satin hung loosely over his shoulders, still open while he draped the dark tie around his neck. His back was facing the door, but his head shot up to the mirror at the sound of someone entering before his eyes promptly rounded to he rough size of the moon and he turned around. _“Finn!”_

The guard blinked, trying like hell to look innocent. “What? You're dressed.”

“What the hell are you doing?” Poe demanded, taking none of that as he stomped forward, removing the tie. His hands gently took Finn's arms, looking the guard over quickly, but his touch had a firmness to it. “I know you're not- Who released you?”

Ha! He wasn't a snitch. “I'm fine, Poe. Really. I feel great.”

“Finn, when you came in here, you looked like _swiss cheese!_ ”

“I'm all right!”

No luck. Poe was glaring at him now, suddenly angry. “Tell me who released you, then I'll drag you back to the _goddamn_ bed my own _fucking_ self-!”

“Poe,” Finn grabbed his arms, too, looking to steady him. “I know you're worried, but I'm okay. I just wanted to see your address. I'll go back after.”

“You fucking liar.”

“I swear.” Promise, promises.

His Prince stared at him hard, seeming to mull over the development. Eventually, he seemed to decide on something as he led Finn to the nearest chair and pushed him into it. Honestly, it didn't take much force. “Damn right, you swear,” Poe grumbled. “I'm going to be watching, Finn. Whether you like it or not, you're going back after, okay? Not a second later.”

Finn rolled his eyes, ignoring the wagging finger. “Yes, your Highness.” While Poe grumbled about the nickname, about to run off on another tangent to fret over, the guard grabbed the tie out of his hand. Really, all of this was understandable. With everything in chaos and so many unknowns floating around, there was little that was in Poe's control. Finn's continuing health was suddenly in that bracket, sort of, but it was enough to make his Prince go into an absolute tissy if so much as Finn's orange juice wasn't the perfect consistency. It wasn't just annoying. It was a fucking guilt trip. He hated all of this weight on his Prince's shoulders, and he _hated_ being the one putting some of that there.

If he could just clear the air even a little, it would be worth it. “I wanted to talk to you, actually,” Finn sighed, raising from his seat. Before Poe could pop a blood vessel over the fact that he was _fucking standing_ , the guard draped the tie around his neck and began working on it.

That shut him up. Or, at least, of any protests. “What about?” he still asked reluctantly, surprisingly letting Finn do this for him.

Without bringing attention to it, the guard just focused on his task and continued without acknowledging it. “About you apologizing.”

Poe's frown did a strange twist as he glanced away. “But it is my fault,” he answered quietly, “All of it.”

It took Finn a second before he realized that they weren't talking about the kiss... His movements froze. “No,” he growled, even surprising himself, but it made Poe look at him at least, “It's _not._ ” Finn tightened the knot, perhaps a bit too tight, but he didn't want to hear any more about this. This guilt. This- Fuck. _Fuck._ If he could have found Ben back there-

Poe swallowed, stretching his neck against the tie. “I know,” he spoke silently, roughly, before clearing his throat. “I know it's not.”

Good. But the blame game wouldn't stop here, he knew... Finn clenched his teeth, but let out a breath through his nose, straightening the tie. “That's not what I meant, though...”

Poe blinked, but didn't make a protest when Finn began to button the vest together. “What did you mean, then?”

“The kiss,” he said bluntly, wanting to get this over with like the adults they were. “It wasn't your fault, Poe. It was mine. You were in a bad place, and you needed someone there with you, and I took advantage of that... It won't happen again, I _swear_ , but-” He paused, trying to dig up the words. Finn stalled for a second, finishing the vest and straightening it out over Poe's shoulder, still not looking to him. “I just... don't want things weird between us, all right? I meant it. I'm sorry. If it makes you uncomfortable, I understand-”

“What?”

“Like, if you wanted someone else in this position, I get it. There's no hard-” Then he willed up the strength to look at Poe, who just stared back at him in shock. Oh. _Oh._ Oh. He didn't- He didn't know that- “Look,” Finn quickly scrambled to salvage this. “It wasn't anything, okay? People kiss all the time in some countries. It didn't mean anything.”

Poe's face fell, his voice going an octave or two higher. “It didn't?”

Finn blinked, officially confused. “Did it?”

“I don't- I-” His Prince looked stuck and lost and just kept blinking at him. “What?”

“What?”

“What are you saying?”

“I-” Wait, what _was_ he saying? “I- I'm sorry that I kissed you? I'm sorry for making things weird? Like now? Like, we're being weird. We're weird. This is weird!”

Poe furrowed his brow, still not looking any better. “But _I_ kissed _you_.”

“But- But you were-” Over emotional. Poe was over emotional at the time. He was freaking out and needed someone to hold him, to take care of him, to tell him that he mattered more than just a title. He had reached out to Finn because he just happened to be the one there. Right? Finn blinked. Right? “Oh my God.” Poe had kissed him. And he had kissed Poe. And they had kissed each other. “Oh my God.”

His Prince stared at him, mouth agape, and this wasn't exactly the perfect fucking picture of _romantic_ \- “You kissed me?”

Finn didn't know what the hell to do anymore. “I thought I did.”

“Why?”

Oh, that was a _horrible_ question. “Because I- Because-” Why, Finn? Why the fuck did you kiss your Prince, huh? Why? “Because I wanted to and I wasn't thinking and you needed someone and-”

Poe's hands gripped at his shoulders, silencing the steady torrent pouring out of him. They stared at each other, Finn realizing just how close they had really gotten while he practically dressed- Poe was staring at his lips.

Finn tensed, unable to breathe, just watching. He didn't know what to do, what was _right_ to do. Keeping these feelings and working with them was definitely the _very bad_ idea here. Poe was royalty, and he would be forever despite what some people thought, and Finn _wasn't_. He just _wasn't._ It wasn't his life. It wasn't his being. A person like Poe was never meant to be his.

The protests died when his Prince began to close the distance and-... Finn crashed their lips together, all thoughts of stopping this very far away. His whole body thrilled at the feeling, much better than the last time they had done this. It was nothing strong. A press of lips. An experiment. A question. Then Poe twisted his head, grabbed the back of Finn's neck, and _pulled them_ together, their awkward kiss suddenly having a burning heat to it. They had opened their mouths to one another at some point, Finn's hand getting tangled in Poe's hair, tongues sliding together, sending wonderful jolts down his spine. They could never stop. He would never stop kissing him.

Then Poe pulled away. “Sorry,” he said in between pants. “That was kind of forward. I just- Finn, fuck, I really missed you.”

Well... he couldn't help but smile to that. For the first time in what seemed like decades, Poe returned it, looking actually genuine in his small piece of happiness. And Finn caused this. _He did this._ “We should probably talk.”

“Yeah,” Poe laughed, “Probably.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was time. Enjoy the small oasis before things inevitably turn to shit again.
> 
> And thank you guys SO MUCH for reading this thing! Thank you for all the support. ♥ Hope you don't mind how long it is. And sorry if that first bit seems too fast paced!


	19. Chapter 19

Poe's emotions were being pulled into so many different extremes that all he really wanted to do was just lay down in a dark room by himself for about an hour or so to sort through everything. And honest to God, he needed it. Ever since he had seen Phasma in the hold of the Guard's Station, his life had been one roller coaster after the next with no end in sight except for the fifty foot drop always by his side.

This new emotional turmoil was a great deal better than the siege of the palace or hearing about the air raid on his city or really anything that had happened in the last day or so. It was _better_ but maybe not altogether pleasant. Kissing Finn- _That_ was pretty damn pleasant, but it was everything that could come with it.

He wasn't out as gay yet, not even to Leia, so that was something to think about later. And, of course, Finn wasn't royalty or from any noble house to speak of, so there he went rocking that boat again. Then, the _biggest_ issue, his worst fucking nightmare, was the thought that Finn wouldn't give up this job. Yes, Poe didn't want anyone else like this, but if firing him meant saving his life, it would be worth it. But Finn wouldn't want to stop, he knew that. Not to mention that he couldn't just quit this and be Poe's consort, considering the problem with aforementioned bloodlines and all.

That was just the tip of the iceberg of all the crap they needed to talk about. Never mind that this was all happening so fast, and that they couldn't have gotten together at a worse time. Everything else would have been easy if this happened about three days ago, and the emotions and answers would have just rolled in with it. But now it was all such a mess. Poe felt overwhelmed knowing that he wasn't what Finn deserved, that _none of this_ was what Finn deserved, but it was all happening anyway, the Prince being powerless to stop it.

Not that he wanted to if Finn could kiss him like that all the time.

God, they _kissed._ It actually happened. They actually kissed.

He wished he could hold on to that. He wished he could sit with Finn for thirty minutes and talk to him between kisses about everything that could be, everything they both wanted to be. He couldn't even hold on to the thought right now, as he took a deep breath to steel his nerves. Finn's hand wrapped around his bicep, “Just tell them everything that you need them to hear,” and instilled a strength in Poe that he hadn't felt a moment ago. There was no speech to read from or prepare. There was nothing to be said that he had to read off of a monitor to say.

If only he could start this off with a mass apology, but _sorry_ won't bring the dead back.

“Want me to go with you?”

Poe, without looking away from the podium and curtain backdrop set thrown together last minute, just reached over and gripped the hand holding him steady. “I need to do it on my own.”

Their own air strike was already in-bound. While the news station was trying to establish a live feed back to their current position, Poe felt like he could panic a thousand times over. He took a deep breath, reminding himself that it would have to be short, whatever it was that he had to say. There was no judgment of how soon Ben's men would catch on and disable their connection.

“You can do this.” Finn's voice was quiet, heady, and only for him to hear. It was strong and sure and so fucking caring.

Poe gripped his hand, making his guard release him. “I can do this,” he repeated, finally moving away and approaching the stage.

He had to be careful about what and what not to say; careful to keep censoring himself throughout the entire thing. What he told his people would be what he told Ben's people, so he couldn't give too much away. According to Leia, just seeing him alive and well would be enough of a morale boost, but it wasn't for him. He caused this. All of it. The siege, the bombings, countless deaths, _Han's_ \- He had to do this right.

And according to one of the techs handling the setup, he had about twenty seconds to get this right before they were live. Oh, shit. Gripping the podium, he glanced to Finn, immensely happy that he was there right now despite his earlier protests. _Just tell them everything that you need them to hear, Poe. No pressure._

He looked back to the camera, trying in vain to summon to mind the faces of his people. There were so many, crowds upon crowds- The funeral not a week ago came to mind, and he closed his eyes tight to try willing the memory away.

But instead, Poe remembered the old woman who had stopped with him in the church, clutching at his hand to tell him how sorry she was and that their deaths were for them all, like she knew everything going through his mind. He thought of her, of the children that would come to the palace every year for the annual celebration of the Empire's defeat, of the middle class workers who would squint at him through his sunglasses around town in broad daylight when he would sneak out regularly, of the local college hockey team when he made a surprise visit to their school and congratulated them personally of their nation wide win, of the patients in the _Shara Bey Memorial Hospital of Cancer and Research_ that he tried to visit every few months, of Snap, of Jess, of Rey and Finn. He thought of his mother and the last time he had seen her in that hospital bed, cupping his cheek, calling him her sunshine, _“You've made me the luckiest person on Earth, baby. I'm so proud of you.”_

“Are you ready, your Highness?”

He opened his eyes, coming back to the half-ass set, and nodded to the tech. It wasn't about trying anymore. He just had to do it.

“We're green,” the man said into an earpiece, then looked up to the Prince, raising five digits. “Okay, we're live in five, four, three, two-” He mouthed _one_ as the camera's little red light came on.

For stolen moment, he stayed silent, knowing that every single television in his country that was on right now suddenly had his face on it, knowing that their funeral march was playing in the background somewhere along the wire, knowing that everyone had stopped what they were doing to stare at him.

_Just tell them everything that you need them to hear._

“My people,” his voice sounded much stronger now, and he was okay with that, “as I know you've been told to the contrary, myself and the Queen Leia Organa are both very much alive and well. Last night, the royal palace was infiltrated by the same group who had made the attempt against my life earlier in the week. They're a highly militant terrorist group that calls themselves the First Order, and their objective is to take our country from us with force. That has not happened, no matter what they tell you. It will _never_ happen. The country has _not_ fallen. You have _not_ fallen.

“Help your brothers and sisters, your neighbors and friends, but I implore you to not engage these First Order troops. There is still hope left, and you are not alone. We have not died, and we have certainly not abandoned. So long as you, the people, still stand, then we still have our country. So long as you do not let them control you with fear, then they will never win. And we will not let them control us. We will not let them bring us back to the days of the Empire. We will not let the sacrifices of our loved ones be in vain. We will prevail, and we will out live them. Their-”

“Wait.” The tech held up one hand to his comm and his other to stop Poe. “No, the signal's out. We're off the air.”

_Fuck._ Was that enough? Was that good enough? “How did they cut us?”

The tech shook his head, not looking away from a spot on the floor as he tried to listen to whatever was on the other end of his connection. “They took out the tower... or maybe the whole building. It's hard to tell.”

* * *

The signal definitely got out. Millions of people definitely saw him. That's all anyone could confirm right now.

Off the record, the one thing they couldn't confirm or deny to his face was if the people who risked their lives getting that stupid message out were still breathing. How many people died just to do this? Was it even fucking worth it?

Things looked even worse when it came out that Leia's mission had failed. She already knew, likely not ten minutes after his address had ended. The news just took awhile to get to him. The in-bound jets were shot down over the city, never even reaching their target, raining the wreckage on to his citizens. That's at least three more lives branded into his skin, all because he had to send a message out, he had to warn them, reassure them, help them- It was stupid. The whole thing had been so stupid. He had been so fucking stupid.

And now it was all up to him. Everyone's lives depended on him, and he was going to fuck it up. He shouldn't have struggled. He should have let them kill him. It would have saved lives. It would have been better.

“Poe.”

He glanced to the door of the room he had commandeered. It was quiet and away, almost like a refuge but not quite. “You're supposed to be in bed,” he said coldly from his seat on the couch, looking off to the wall again. “Yet another promise you made me.” And _fuck,_ did he hate himself more in this moment than ever before.

Finn seemed to ignore the tone, walking forward without a hesitant step. He was even so bold as to sit beside Poe, bodies close enough to touch, but he didn't look to him. “I promised I'd go back after the address,” he said quietly, looking off to the same wall Poe had been staring down, “and I will. I haven't broken a promise to you yet.”

“Yet,” Poe repeated. “You will, and we both know it.”

Finn, his guard, his- his-... whatever they were-... He sighed. “I think we have a little miscommunication.” Poe grunted, knowing that they never did talk about what this was, realizing that it was probably pointless to even try to start that conversation anyway. “I told you I wouldn't leave you,” Finn said, just as quietly, “which means that I'll never walk away from you; I'll never abandon you; I'll stay by your side no matter what... It does _not_ mean that I probably won't be killed or hurt or make sacrifices. It just means that I'll always put you first, and I'll never leave unless you want me to or someone takes me.”

This wasn't the conversation he had in mind, but it wasn't a worse one either. “And if you let them take you?”

There was a still moment until, finally, Finn turned to look at him. “You don't get it, do you?”

“Excuse me if I'm getting sick of people sprinting to their deaths in my name.”

“It's not _you_ ,” Finn stressed, turning his whole body towards him, but Poe still didn't look. “They didn't die _because_ of you or _for_ you. They died because of Ben, and they died for their country, their families, everyone that they love, and everything they believe in. People are making the choice to fight for themselves. It's Ben that's hurting the people, not you.”

“He's doing this to get at me.”

“You're an excuse, Poe. He would have done this anyway.” The Prince, finally, looked over to him, his eyes finding Finn's deep brown ones that were full of concern and fire. “He killed his father,” he continued, twisting his mouth in disgust. “I saw him do it. And he wanted Leia, too. That's not because of you. He's fucked up.” There was a pause as Poe thought on what to argue against next. His eyes scanned down to the sofa, trying to think through those words, when Finn continued. “You did good today.”

“I got more people killed,” he countered, which was entirely true, “It wasn't worth it. A couple of minutes on a TV screen? It wasn't worth it.”

Finn frowned, brow furrowing, but still not angry. “You saved lives. You gave them hope, the will to fight. You gave them something to believe in. They know that we'll take back the city. It's just a matter of time.”

“And when I fuck that up, too?”

“We won't.”

_We._ Like whatever they had was already working out.

He felt dead. He felt heavy and emotionless, like he was just a ghost of himself wandering through the mist. Soon, he'd command an invasion on his home to take back a palace that never belonged to him and save people that should hate him. He'd do it with a clear head, making logical decisions that a person should never have to make, throwing sacrifices left and right. But right now it was so far away that none of it even seemed real. Nothing seemed real.

“Han raised me,” he found himself saying, “They all did really. Leia and Han were always in my life, but they made themselves even more present when mom died. Not that Han was ever the dad I never had, but he was better than nothing. Way better than nothing. He told me stories about my dad, about Kes, about how they fought together before Luke took the throne, about how they built the Royal Guard together. When I was little, he always told me that I looked so much like my father, he wondered if I was just his reincarnation instead of his kid. And mom would laugh at him and say that I had her eyes and lips, but he'd-” Poe swallowed hard, finding that he was crying _again_ but still wasn't feeling it, “-he'd just wave her off, say she was crazy, that he was probably closer to Kes during the war than she was, and mom would laugh at him again.

“He was the only one I ever told... Right after mom died, I was so upset. We had known for months, but I just couldn't take it when she finally passed. And I told him... when I was just _six_. I never told anyone before then or since. And I don't know if he actually believed me or not, but he didn't judge me or lecture me. I kept screaming _I hate him, I hate him_ , and Han just held me and let me scream.”

Poe stared at the wood floor beneath his feet, having lost himself for a moment in a memory, nearly the same one as before. He wasn't sobbing or hitching for breath, but there were tears, he could feel them, see them fall to his lap and hands, and he just stared at the floor. “I hate him so much. I hate Luke _so much._ ” It was almost strange to know that he still felt that way, to acknowledge it. He never knew the man, probably never would, and Poe just hated him _so much_ that it was unreal. Like everything around him. So unreal.

A hand brushed into his hair, and Poe didn't fight when it moved to his neck and tugged him backwards, burying himself into Finn's chest. His chest that was still injured. Strong arms wrapped around him, and Poe shook. “I'm going,” he chocked out, “When they invade, I'm going with them. I'm leading the air squadron.”

He expected to be pushed away, an outburst, maybe even a punch to the face. What he got was silence. Silence for a long minute while Finn thought it over, literally holding him together. Eventually, shockingly, right when Poe was considering he hadn't even been heard, Finn said, “Okay... Then I'll lead the ground.”

“... You're wounded.”

“And you're the heir. What do you think will happen if they kill you?”

“There's Leia and the people-”

“And you said yourself that you didn't trust anyone.” Poe felt a kiss on the top of his head, gentle and firm. “I promised I'll never leave you, and I'm keeping it.”

“You can't die.”

“Neither can you,” Finn muttered, holding him tighter, probably hurting himself. “This is bigger than us.”

Poe took a deep breath, taking in a scent that suddenly felt very temporary. Suddenly, all of this felt very _temporary_. “You can't go. I can't let you go. I can't lose you, Finn. I'm serious.”

“I know why you have to go,” the other told him, his breath tickling against his hair. “Do you understand why I have to?”

Yes. For him. Because of him. “I can't lose this,” the Prince mumbled into Finn's shirt, scared to come out just like a six year old. “I just got you. I can't lose you.”

“You're not.” The arms held him tight, and Poe grit his teeth. “You're never losing me.”

He understood. He knew why Finn had to go. He knew what Finn meant by his promise.

To keep himself from sobbing, he leaned up and kissed him as hard as he could. Maybe it was out of place and at the worst time imaginable, but Finn returned it and kept returning it and kept returning it, until they were laying down on the sofa. There was heat there, Poe could feel it, but he pulled away despite every screaming molecule in his body to take and take and take, twisting his fingers into the cloth of Finn's shirt, feeling a hand comb through his hair.

He buried his face into his love's neck and just let himself be held for as long as they could manage... until he fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was kind of a short chapter, but the last one was longer, so this is okay. Hope you guys liked it. We finally got a few emotions over what happened with Han, so that's good!
> 
> Anyway, thank you guys SO MUCH for reading!! I'm glad you all liked that whole kissing thing!


	20. Chapter 20

It was actually kind of nice to sleep on that couch, but it took Finn awhile after Poe nodded off to fall asleep himself. Though his Prince woke up again in about three hours time, it was probably the best night's sleep either of them had in days.

Poe seemed to be of a better mind after the short nap. He seemed more collected, more sure of himself, that much more ready to face all of this. But he reminded Finn of his promise to go back to bed, so there was nothing else the guard could do until at least daylight.

Once morning broke, he followed Poe around like a puppy as plans and tactics flowed in like water. Every General had something to say about invading the Capital, and his Prince listened to everyone's suggestions, both stupid and wise alike. It was clear – _terribly_ clear – that this attack shouldn't happen for at least another week. The primary factor of the First Order's military support was still horribly unclear which put a massive void in most plans. However, due to the circumstances, they agreed to move forward at dawn the next day.

Finn never wanted to speak up more in his life. Tomorrow? And Poe planned to be the first one there? Secretly, he had hoped his Prince would have thought otherwise about going if Finn went, too, but that didn't seem to be the case. It didn't change his mind, but the rapidly approaching moment to strike was putting everything in a stronger perspective. Finn was more than okay with himself going, but Poe? The mere thought went against his every grain. He lived and breathed to protect his Prince, and now the man wanted to run into war.

But that's just the thing. It's war. If the invasion failed, nothing for the country would end well. Ben would decimate everything, that much everyone was sure of. It was all or nothing... and Poe was a great pilot, a great leader. And he had to be there. He _had_ to. Finn understood that. That didn't mean he couldn't hate it.

So Finn excused himself from Poe's side halfway into the day, feeling certain that his Prince was in no danger while under Lando's roof. His first order of business was to visit with some of the others that planned to lead the ground troops. Finn would be in charge of every unit on the ground, but these people would practically be his rights hands through the whole thing. When he spoke to and shook hands with Karé Kun and Iolo Arana, he tried hard to not think of Muran and Antilles.

His second step was to visit with the pilots that would be flying by Poe's side. However, he found out that all of their air squadrons would be following him, and the only two people he trusted to act as right hands were still not within Finn's realm of contact: Jess and Snap. Once he realized who Poe would be flying with, though, he realized that he didn't need to speak to them after all. Those two would never let anything happen to him.

So he talked with Karé and Iolo for hours, dividing their military units into sectors, deciding which way to enter the city and take the palace back. The city was the easy part. The contacts they had within the limits, not to mention the news and social media that managed to leak out, every millimeter closer to the palace was more and more guarded and deadly. The First Order was afraid of an assault. Maybe they wouldn't have all of the surprise that Finn had previously hoped for, but they could still work with this.

Just as dusk set in, Leia ordered everyone to rest. What wasn't planned already would never get planned by this point, she claimed. They needed the rest for tomorrow.

Poe _wasn't_ going to rest. He wasn't going to sleep at all, the moron. But Finn vowed to find him later, to give them both a moment of space, as he went back to the room they had given him, the same medically sterile thing he had woken up in. He just... needed a minute. To think, to collect his thoughts, to make sure he wasn't doing something absolutely stupid.

He stared at the blank pad of paper in front of him from his perch on the bed, having already torn away any notes or plans he had made earlier during the endless meetings. So all he could do was just... stare. Writing came easy to him. It was a form of freedom and adventure and creation and expression. Writing was beautiful. Except for right now. Right now, he wanted every written word imaginable to burn as he wracked his brain. _The hardest part is starting_ , he said to himself, so he started.

Then promptly tore it out and started again. He wrote more this time, taking up half the page, going back every now and then to scratch out words or entire sentences. When he drew a big 'X' through the entire second paragraph, he tore that sheet out and started again. This one was short, to the point, and not at all good enough, so he tore that out, too. The fourth attempt was more of an homage to the second, making it long winded sans the mistakes he had marked out before. When he was at the end of the page, writing as small as he could to fit everything he needed, he stopped and took a look at it. Too long. He tore it out.

On the twelfth draft, he finally knew what actually needed to be written. It took two more times after that to write it. It wasn't perfect – it wasn't going to ever be perfect – but it was good enough. He threw away the mound of rough drafts, then gently tore out the final copy. He folded it and stuffed it in an envelope that he had also lifted from the meetings and stared at it. It wasn't perfect, but it should be; it deserved to be.

He was about to take it out and start all over again when there was a knock, the door opened, and Poe walked in. Finn smirked. “And here I thought I'd have to run you to bed tonight.” But it was flattering that he came here.

Still, Poe looked dead on his feet, as expected, dressed again in something more casual. He didn't get any rest after their nap on that couch. Miraculously, his Prince smiled back. “Wouldn't have to ask me twice to go to bed with you,” he chuckled, moving forward and pointing to the envelope. “What's that?”

Finn looked back to it again, grimacing, and resolved that this was as perfect as it'll ever get. “Just something for Leia. For tomorrow,” he sighed, turning to place it and the paper on the table next to his bed. “Speaking of, I'm thinking we all have about five hours worth of sleep right now?”

“Give or take,” Poe answered, climbing into the bed beside him, sitting against the headboard and resting their shoulders together. “You should have been asleep hours ago.”

“Me? How much did you sleep last night?”

“You're wounded,” the Prince said playfully with a tiny smirk, shoving his shoulder against him. Finn shoved back, delighting in this new mood right before everything turned somber again. Poe frowned down at his feet, serious again, looking years older than he ever should. “I really wish you wouldn't go tomorrow.” Finn didn't answer. He was going. That wasn't up for argument. “I could order you not to go.”

Okay, that was up for argument. “I outrank you.”

Poe raised an eyebrow. “I'm sorry?”

“I'm in charge of your safety,” Finn nodded, “and when I think something isn't safe for you, even if it's an idea of your own, I can do anything and everything that I must to protect you. Therefore... I could order _you_ to not go.”

His Prince leaned his head back against the wall. “Then why haven't you?”

“I want to,” he answered. “Why haven't you?”

“I'm thinking about it.” And for a moment, Poe seemed to do just that, then let out a heavy breath, shaking his head. “I almost lost you at the palace-”

“But you didn't,” Finn interrupted, not wanting that train of thought to continue. Instead, he reached over and grabbed Poe's hand, lacing their fingers together. Touches like this were still new, but it didn't really feel like it. So he just watched his Prince, studying the profile of his face like he didn't always have opportunities like this.

It seemed like an eternity before Poe gave in and turned to face him. But he wasn't really seeing him... There was turmoil just behind the dark eyes, heavy with thought. It took tim for him to finally come up with, “You're stubborn.” Finn gave him a small smile that wasn't returned. Then, softer, “You don't have to do this. Not like I do.”

“I have to.”

“Why?” Those lovely eyes darkened more as a frown pierced his handsome face. “For me? Don't go because of me, Finn.”

It was for Poe, if he wanted to be completely honest. After all, he was injured and had been in a grand total of two combat situations in the past. But- “I have to go for everything,” he said instead, squeezing his hand, “Everything I know. Everything I care about.”

“If I stayed here, would you still go?”

_Don't do this._ Finn frowned, too, but didn't let up on the grip of their hands. “My place is with you.”

Poe seemed to mull that over for a moment, glancing at his eyes and lips and forehead and torso, lost in thought but looking him over to take him all in at the same time. Eventually, like it was uncontrollable twitch, a deeper frown came over him, scrunching up his face. “It's not, though,” he finally said, blinking a few times before their eyes met again. “I'm not royalty, you know that. Nothing's going to change if something happens to me. I'm the son of soldiers... You shouldn't even _be_ here. You were working your way up, remember? All of this was a case of being at the right place at the right time. You took it because you were bored and it offered more money. Remember? You're not obligated to do anything. You've done so much already. You have nothing to-”

“Poe.” His voice was soft, but the other man shut his mouth all the same when Finn shifted and moved closer. “I told you,” he whispered just low enough to hear, foreheads brushing together, “I'm here to protect you. _You_ are _my_ Prince... by blood or not. Okay?” There was no answer, as Poe's shining eyes moved up from his lips, facing him again. He was shuddering, hand gripping his hard, so full of emotion that he could burst again. So Finn asked once more, just to be sure. “Okay?”

The sound of a reply was nothing more than a terrified breath against his neck, “Don't die for me.”

No. Those thoughts were supposed to be gone. “I'm going to _survive_ for you. If I die-”

Poe's breathing hitched, hand practically flying to the side of Finn's face. But it was gentle and soft and... shaking. He was shaking. “Finn, don't- Just don't. Just- You don't have to. It's okay. I'll be okay. I don't want you to- I don't want you even _thinking_ about-”

“I'm going with you.” It was a whisper, a mutter of breath between them, but firm enough to feel the seriousness in the statement. “Poe, I'm going with you.”

“No, I- I-” His Prince stared down at his cheek, eyes shining bright. His breathing pattern was all over the place, shaking like a leaf, mouth moving in silence. _“Finn...”_ His name said like that felt like an oath, and all he could think about was kissing him. They had only kissed twice, but- Poe tightened his grip on him, frowning with a furrowed brow, looking like a frustrated child. “I-” Their eyes finally met again, the Prince's full of fear and hope and warmth, his voice so low that it could barely be heard. “Finn, I-... I lo-”

He looked terrified... Finn leaned forward, somehow understanding the broken words through a connection he didn't dare second guess, and swallowed the meaning between them, gently pressing his lips against his Prince's.

Poe tensed instantly, gripping hard at Finn's jaw and neck, and he didn't move at all for a moment. Until, suddenly, he pressed back hard, pushing against Finn. There was shuffling, a moment where Poe readjusted himself to face him head on, a second where the guard was sure he was about to be straddled but didn't. Instead, he felt Poe leaning over him, gliding his tongue along his lips, and Finn let him in without a thought.

He reached higher above him, grabbing the back of his Prince's shirt and tugging him further down, all the more closer. But while Poe's tongue was making him weak, he felt resistance there. He pulled away for a brief moment, one where he continued the kissing between the words. “I won't break.”

“Don't wanna-...” Poe paused in the words to kiss him deep again, making Finn lean off of the bed to get closer to him, before they broke apart again. “Don't wanna hurt you...”

Didn't want to hurt him... They were walking into a war in a few hours, and Poe was worried about hurting him right now. Finn grabbed him at the ribs, pulling his Prince away and, all at once, picking him up and flipping them both over, putting him on top and pressing down without any thought to dignity. And... well, yeah, okay, it kind of hurt a good bit, but it was worth seeing Poe beneath him, wide eyes dark, breath catching and hands scrambling- Finn attacked the pulse point on his neck, biting down and sucking however way he wanted. Beneath him, Poe tilted his head to give more room, hand gripping up his back, and an amazing moan escaping him. _“Finn.”_

He arched beneath him, and Finn groaned when he realized that Poe was hard. Oh Christ, to continue this, to see where they would end up- But his wounds felt like they were on fire. It wasn't a big deal – he'd feel much worse tomorrow – but he didn't want to pull a stitch just to make Poe think it was his fault. But it felt too good to stop now. The _noises_ Poe was making as he rocked back into him. They couldn't just stop now.

“Can I-?” Finn mumbled against his neck, hand gently going beneath Poe's shirt to trace the skin of his hips. “Can I-?”

“ _Yes,”_ the other nearly sobbed against him, one leg already wrapping around him. “Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes-”

Finn nipped at his adam's apple, effectively hushing him for the moment, hands deftly working to unbutton his pants. Meanwhile, Poe bucked and wiggled beneath him, scrambling to get his shirt off. Finn paused in his mission, leaning off of him for just a second to get rid of the offending piece of clothing – and oh, those days of sparing had paid off – but Poe gripped his bicep before he could go back. “Wait. Wait.”

He froze, worried for just a moment, until he realized what was about to be asked of him. _His_ shirt. Oh hell. He didn't think that far. An excuse was on his tongue, literally anything that came to mind first, but Poe was already moving beneath him, leaning up until they carefully flipped over again. This time he was definitely being straddled. Poe was breathing heavy, eyes blown huge, and this was probably the best thing that had happened in a long, long time.

Poe's hand carefully moved beneath his own shirt, staying at the waistline like a question... Dammit. Finn bit his lip, but arched gently beneath him to take the shirt off. Hands moved, and Poe was suddenly helping him. It took a second just because they were going so slow with it, but the thing came off and fell on the floor, revealing every one of Finn's bandages that he hadn't wanted Poe to see.

For a moment, his Prince just stared and took it in, eyes flicking to every spot covered in gauze and wraps. If Finn could have gotten away with covering himself up, he would have. It wasn't that he was self-conscious about it, but he knew Poe's way of thinking. He didn't want to _share_ these wounds. But, slowly, Poe leaned forward to kiss his collarbone with much more patience than a moment ago, moving down his chest and lightly brushing his lips over the bandage at his heart. But he hardly stopped there. Poe kept moving down, following the line of his hard-earned abs. “Can I?” he repeated.

Finn could have melted off of the bed. “Yeah,” he managed to breathe, like that was anywhere near as good as Poe's enthusiasm to the question a moment ago, but it was all that his mind could come up with right now.

It didn't deter his Prince any, apparently. Poe's hands moved against him again like he had known this body for years, sucking at a spot beside Finn's navel that made everything in him tense and run hot, quickly managing to get his pants unbuttoned. Finn groaned in relief, hardly aware of the sound until it left him, while Poe's hands swiftly drove him insane by running down his hips like that.

Goddammit, was this a dream?

Those thoughts silenced when Poe finally released his cock and turned his sharp eyes on him. _Oh God_ , this could not be happening right now. Finn, breathing hard, gave a small nod of approval. He could have _sworn_ that there was a smirk there, before Poe opened his mouth and slid his tongue over the head, keeping his eyes on his. Finn gasped, shuddering, but didn't look away. Not until Poe took him in, eyes fluttering shut before swallowing to the hilt.

_Then_ he looked away. There was no other choice. _“Fuck, Poe.”_ His eyes screwed shut, head tilting back, bucking once and managing to stop himself with the hardest bite to his lip he'd ever had to do. He had wanted this to last. He had wanted to think about anything except what was happening right now, but that wasn't about to happen. Poe felt so good, bobbing up and down on him, and Finn's hand automatically found his soft hair.

He opened his eyes, entirely against every logical piece left in his mind. “Poe-” Those dark eyes found him again, full of wild lust, the man over him suddenly grinding against the bed, and- “Poe, _God_ -” He was quickly losing the situation. “Poe, I'm- Poe-”

The lover above him, _his_ Prince, moaned into him, and that was it. Finn arched with a whine, gripping at the soft curls in his hand, coming hard down his throat. There was a beat that Poe stayed, practically milking him dry, before pulling off with a little _pop_.

If Finn could physically melt into a puddle right now- Poe was kissing his jaw, chin- He moved his head at an angle, taking his lips in his, hardly able to lean up and kiss him as deep as before. Damn if his body hadn't decided to give out.

But, no, not yet. Finn pulled back. “Now, you.”

“I'm okay.”

“Oh, don't start that-”

“You're tired-”

Finn grabbed his hip, pulling him close. “Just tell me how you want it.”

Doubtless, a hundred different scenarios suddenly crossed Poe's mind if the way his eyes flicked down and his tongue licked his lips was any indication. “I just-” he began, then stopped and looked into his eyes again, leaning back in. “So long as you're doing it, I don't care.”

Finn smiled, pushing up to meet him halfway and return the kiss. He would never get enough of kissing Poe. Ever. And maybe this wasn't nearly as good as the stellar blowjob that just wiped him out, but Finn pressed the heel of his hand to Poe's cock anyway, pleased when the man bucked above him.

He broke the kiss, making quick work of the pants. “So hard,” he muttered, finding that spot again on Poe's neck, his free arm wrapping over his Prince's back to press them together. To make it as good as he could, he pushed his hips up, grinding against Poe while his hand did the harder work.

Judging by Poe's, _“Oh God,”_ moan against him, it was working. Before he knew it, Poe was grinding down hard, thrusting into his hand, practically growling against his ear, and Finn bit down, ushering him closer.

It didn't take long before Poe gasped over him, body tensing and letting out a long moan, a beautiful heat spilling against the guard's torso. “ _Finn_ , oh... Finn...” For a moment, he nearly collapsed on top of him in a heaving mess of pleasure, before managing to roll off and onto his back.

Finn watched him try to catch his breath... As far as first times go, that was pretty great. “Was it good?” If it wasn't, he was more than willing (if not exhausted) to try again, even as he wiped away the come to his torso with the edge of a sheet.

But Poe huffed a laugh, opening his bright eyes again to look at him. “Well, that was-... That was pretty fucking great, Finn.”

It still hurt to laugh, but there was a strong sense of peace now, especially with that light back in his Prince's eyes. God, he'd done that. A pride surged through him, a protectiveness, a love- He turned on his side, moving closer.

Poe got the hint quickly, turning to where his back was facing Finn so that the other man could wrap him in his arms and pull him close. All thoughts of tomorrow were for tomorrow, but for now a calm flowed through him, claiming them both.

He was already falling asleep in the haze when he heard Poe mutter, “I wish we'd done this sooner.”

Finn opened his eyes to the room, with the lights still on and the door unlocked, making sure that he heard right. After a breath, he placed a light kiss on the back of Poe's neck. “Me, too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And I FINALLY fulfill my promise of smut. When I started this, there was supposed to be smut everywhere and everything was going to be sexy and cute, but it turned angsty and serious instead. Anyway, let me know how I did. Sex takes me forever to write, much less write well.
> 
> And thank you guys SO MUCH. Like I'm still blown away by the amount of responses I get. I love you all.
> 
> The invasion is coming!


	21. Chapter 21

“I have to go.”

“I'll go with you.

“No, you sleep-”

“I'm gonna stop you right there, Finn. Where's my shirt?”

Waking up to Poe was almost better than falling asleep with him. In all honesty, Finn didn't expect this. His Prince was like a live wire with everything going on, but he had stayed anyway. It was nice. If all else failed, at least they had this.

There was one kiss – short, quick, distracted – before they quickly left and finally parted ways for the moment. Like yesterday was already far into the past. _And all our yesterdays have lighted fools the way to dusty death._ He blinked hard and kept walking, kept moving.

An air transports were set to send Finn and his teams to the edges of the city. From there it was up to them to move in while Poe and his squadrons handled air support from above. The objective was to get into and clear out the palace. Simple, cut throat, effective. And full of holes that were thus far unseen. What military presence did the First Order have? Were they already at war with other countries and just didn't know it yet? Who was supplying Kylo Ren with his army? Was he even still in the city?

It was all questions that would be answered only after they touched down, and that didn't sit right with Finn at all. He was scared. He was fucking terrified. There were too many unknowns, but they were all going in a blaze of glory anyway. It was like a mass suicide mission, the last days of a war that never really began.

He made it to the hangars of a nearby airstrip before Poe did. Everyone was converging here before the attack, so he hoped that the First Order didn't have satellites trained in on their position. At least they were still under the cover of night, dawn not set to rise for another two hours.

There wasn't much time for a briefing. Everyone knew what they had to do, and they were all scrambling to do it. Finn's job, for now, was easy. All he had to do was catch the first chopper back to the city. Not hard since it wouldn't leave without him anyway. And he wasn't leaving until he saw Poe again. Before that, though-

The Queen had set up the hangar as a base of operations sometime during the night, seeing as it was a less likely target than Lando's home. She and their Generals would be controlling the assault from outside of the country's borders, so it wasn't terribly shocking to see her here now. She looked like a regular war leader, exactly what all of the old stories said about her from the days of the Empire.

She watched the air field from the hangar doors, at the crowds of people getting ready for an attack that had been planned in less than a few days, while Finn fell in by her side. “Did you approve of Poe going out there?” He had half a mind to beg her to reconsider.

“This is his operation,” she answered without looking to him. “I don't approve, but his decision makes sense... Why?”

He scowled. “Just wondering.” _Made sense_ , pah... I did, though. Finn _knew_ why. He understood. But it just- It irked him. He hated it.

“For the record,” she continued, “I don't much approve of _you_ going either.” Finn paused and finally looked to her in confusion. She glanced to him, amused. “You're our Head of Security now, at least where the Guard is concerned. You're important, too, Finn.”

Oh. Right. He let out a breath and looked back to the tarmac. “I'm his bodyguard first. I'm not letting him run out there without me.”

“You'll be on the ground, Finn. If something happens-”

“It won't,” he interrupted. “I've pulled strings. He'll be okay.” Not many strings, but enough of them to make sure Poe's back was being watched.

The Queen wanted to say something more, but instead just took a deep breath. “And what about you? I won't stand for just one of you coming back, you know. You've become a set pair now.”

A set pair. He was glad that she didn't know the half of it. But the more he thought about last night, the more his mind wanted to tell him that it was a mistake. _Compromised_ kept coming to mind, and this – the war just beginning to tremble around him – was exactly why it was such a bad thing. If worse came to worst, they shouldn't have done anything.

But they had, and for all of his worrying, Finn didn't really regret it. When it came down to it, Poe was right. They should have done all of it, everything, much sooner. “Will you do me a favor, your Majesty?”

His uncharacteristic pause and the complete avoidance of her question made an eyebrow pop up. “Depends.”

Doubts were flying through his mind one after the other, but Finn did his best to ignore them and dug the letter out of his pocket, handing it over to her. “Can you give this to Poe when he comes back?” And once it was out of his hand, he would never have to think about it again.

He met her glare head on, biting the inside of his cheek hard in the hopes to remain steady on his feet. After a moment where he didn't back down, Leia looked at the letter and took it. “I'll give it back to you when you get back,” she said with a frown towards the tarmac, “or, better yet, you could give it to him now.”

“It's too soon.” And it was, but he couldn't die knowing it was never said at all. Even if it would be better on Poe if he didn't know. This was selfish and stupid. “Thank you.”

“He won't want a letter when he gets back,” she frowned. “Take care of yourself out there.”

Finn was already wounded. Everything still ached. But he took a deep breath anyway and said, “Yes, ma'am.

* * *

It was harder than he cared to admit to leave Finn that morning, but it was made all the better when he found him again at the air strip. “Finn!” and that didn't sound too desperate, just like running over to him didn't scream it either.

It didn't matter though. Finn's head shot away from the sight of helicopters coming in before a bright smile lit his face, and he jogged to meet Poe halfway. They clasped arms, somehow not completely going in for a hug. It was weird. This should be a melancholy, serious moment, but it wasn't. Poe found that he could hardly stop himself from smiling. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Finn laughed, but it wasn't as joyful as he had hoped. “I like this jumpsuit better than Jessika's.”

“Yeah?” Poe frowned, confused. It was a little different maybe, but the same horrid orange color as before.

But his guard's fingers lightly ghosted over his neck. “Your collar doesn't conceal much, your Highness.”

… Oh. Poe grabbed at the hem of his neck, trying to pull it higher over the hickey he had hardly glanced at earlier. “I forgot about that.”

“It looks good on you.”

“Stop,” Poe groaned, though it turned into a laugh somewhere down the line. “I should have marked you up, too. At least I'll be in a cockpit.”

“I wouldn't have objected.”

It was weird. Friendly banter, light flirting, keeping it simple. Poe bit his lip. “Finn,” and _that_ sounded too sad of a tone, so he notched up his smile a little more, looking at the handsome man before him through his lashes. “You never did tell me what Hamlet wrote to Ophelia.”

And there it was. A big, bright, wide smile accompanied with a raucous laugh. “You're still on that?”

“I didn't have the _time_ to Google it, man,” Poe laughed, too, swaying in place with him. “I know you know. You gotta tell me. You promised.”

That sounded way too much like the palace, the siege.

Finn didn't seem to notice. “No, _you_ said it was a promise. I said no such a thing.”

“Tell me anyway.”

“Why do you wanna know so bad?”

“Cause you won't tell me. Why won't you tell me?”

“Cause it's corny.”

“So?”

Finn laughed, ducking his head in shyness not unlike just a few days ago. Eventually, he bit his lip and looked back up. “I'll tell you when you get back.”

Finally, there it was. The seriousness of the situation suddenly thrown on them again. Poe licked his lips. “You promise?” When Finn didn't immediately answer, he pressed more. “You promise you'll tell me when we get back?”

“Yeah, Poe,” he nodded, a soft smile still on his face. “I promise.”

All smiles left Poe. Every flicker of happiness left his body. He gripped harder at his love and pulled him in, pressing their foreheads together in front of anyone who cared to watch. There was so much that needed to be said, but it didn't matter right now. “You promised,” he whispered, “Don't forget.”

“I won't,” Finn muttered, “but you gotta be here to hear it.”

“I will be.”

That brought a bigger smile back to him, and Poe couldn't help but return it. Finn glanced down. “It's time to go.”

“I know.” But he wasn't ready. He would never be ready. “Finn-” But he couldn't say it. His love looked at him like he knew the words stuck in his throat, but _hell_ he couldn't say it. So he pulled him close and kissed him deep instead.

It didn't last long, but he was grateful it happened at all. When they pulled away, Finn gave him the same smoldering look he had last night, and Poe licked his lips to try again. “When we get back, you're not my bodyguard anymore, understand? You're getting your own guard.” It was as close to what he wanted to say as he could get.

And, shockingly, Finn smiled and nodded. “Okay.”

“Okay...”

It still took time for them to detach from each other. But they were on a schedule that wasn't going waiting around for anything else. So he stayed there, watched Finn climb up into a helicopter, and prayed that wouldn't be the last time he saw him.

* * *

“ _Are you two together yet?”_

“What?”

They were in the air now, headed straight towards the city though it still wasn't in sight yet. The dull red and purple bleed of the sun had only just started to spread across the sky.

“ _Stop fretting,”_ Snap's voice came in through his ear piece, _“It's a secure channel. Just the three of us. Now spill.”_

The three of them meaning Jess was in, too. Poe didn't have the time to see them all face to face on the ground, so they had rendezvoused together in the air, many more jets following their lead with Poe in the forefront. This was really not the time for chatter. “I don't know what you're talking about, Wexley.”

“ _Oh God,”_ and that was Jess, _“Please don't tell me you're still in-denial. I have all those texts you sent to me in the middle of the night, you know.”_

Seriously? Now? “It's not like we're about to be in a combat situation or anything, guys.” Surely Leia was listening in to this shit.

“ _Wait...”_ Snap paused for a second. _“Oh Christ, you two did it, didn't you?”_

“No!”

“ _Poe! Oh my God, really?”_

“Jess, that's none of your-”

Snap was laughing. _“Seriously, man! Wow!”_ Poe was about to groan into the mic when Wexley continued. _“I am so happy for you two. That's great! I wish I could have talked to him before. Damn.”_

In the other jet to his left, Jess was chuckling like mad. _“I can't wait to get you two a wedding present. Oh, just wait until the news gets their claws in this one.”_

“ _The Prince and The Bodyguard,”_ Snap laughed, _“They're going to make movies about you two.”_

“All right, all right!” They could probably hear his smile through the line, and that was probably their goal. He had missed them more than he realized. “It's nothing major, okay? It was probably just the heat of the moment.”

“ _Uh-huh.”_

“ _Sure it was.”_

Another voice cut in, exactly the one that he figured had heard everything... like he cared. _“Poe, you're closing in.”_ Leia's voice was like a strong command, and seriousness blanketed everything again.

He took a breath. “Patch us through.” It wasn't all bad, he thought to himself. There were perks to this mission.

The perk in question came in the form of the new voice in his ear. _“Black Leader, this is Stormtrooper. Ready to go in on your command.”_

Poe smiled. “Copy that, Stormtrooper. ETA thirty seconds.”

“ _They're playing it,”_ Finn surprisingly continued. _“The Funeral March. It's been playing since we got here. No sign of civilians either.”_

Finn was supposed to be positioned less than a mile from the city's outposts, and Poe didn't doubt that he was, which showed just how loud the music was. That wasn't the plan, though. They could only patch in to the emergency sound systems and that was a far off shot. The people must have been looping it themselves somehow. “That's all you, buddy.” Then, after a beat, “We have visual. Switching to formation. Weapons hot.”

“ _Got eyes on you, Black Leader.”_ Poe could hear a grin on the line, and he desperately wanted to make a teasing remark, but that wasn't the point of the relay. If Finn saw them, then the city saw them, Ben saw them.

He patched in to the rest of his squad. “Okay, we're going in. Blue Team, take out every S.A.M. you come across. Red, you're going to make runs on the palace, as many as you need. The rest of you are with me. We're giving cover to our boys on the ground. Be prepared for dog fights, and try to look after civilians. Do not let these thugs scare you!”

He could hear something cackling on the line before Finn's voice came through. _“Black Leader, we're moving in.”_ Ah. The air raid sirens.

“Don't forget, Finn.”

“ _I won't.”_

“All right, let's go!”

The teams split off right before reaching the city, a sprawling landscape with the magnificent palace at its center gleaming in the morning sun, entire acres still smoking from the bomb drops. It was beautiful and horrible. Then Poe dipped down and gunned through the First Order's checkpoint in Finn's path. He swooped up, looping around, not willing to tussle with a surface to air missile before Snap's team could immobilize them. If the civilians weren't already to safety, this was quite literally their last warning.

It was going to be a long fight to the palace from the edge of the city, but Finn could do it. Poe was confident that he could probably do anything. _“We're through!”_

“I'm right behind you,” Poe said into the mic and dipping low again, his squadron right on his heels.

It took a moment to even notice the explosions happening that wasn't within his narrow focus until Snap spoke up again. _“Commander, the S.A.M.'s on the east side are down. You're clear to move in. Headed to the center.”_

Poe caught sight of their legion of a ground army, finding one closer to the front of the squad that he'd like to fool himself into thinking was Finn, right before flying right over their heads. “We'll clear the path, Stormtrooper. Get your people in there.”

“ _Copy that, Black Leader.”_

He liked that. Black Leader. It was the first time he liked his code name. It felt right like this.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, the shit begins next chapter. This is our warm up.
> 
> Yes, it was very short and I greatly apologize for that, but the next several chapters should be pretty long. I have a WHOLE LOT planned, so we'll see how everything goes. Wish them luck. Now's your last chance.
> 
> And thank you guys so much for reading and making this fic what it is. It probably wouldn't have gotten this far without you all, so thanks. I love you guys so much.


	22. Chapter 22

Finn had practically grown up in this city, and it had never looked like this. Once, when he was very young, there had been a terrible storm that flooded most of the city for days. It was practically a disaster area. No power, everyone helping each other, food being handed out like flowers.

This was so much worse.

The only sound in the air was the sirens, the jets hurtling overhead, and far off gun fire. That was it. In fact, Finn couldn't see another soul on the ground other than his own platoon. Homes and shops looked like they had been abandoned for years with their windows boarded up and held together with duct tape. When he could see inside a window, the picture was dark and ransacked. There had been looters. _The First Order or some stupid gang?_ he wondered, then took a look around him, at the streets and streets, block after block of abandonment. This was the First Order. But what about the people? Where were the people? They heeded the sirens, surely, but _some_ stupid fool would have been spotted by this point.

He couldn't worry about that right now. He couldn't let himself.

Finn held his firearm tighter, carefully weaving through the streets with his squad silently following behind. He stopped at the next corner and peaked around at what was supposed to be their first intercept point: the church. When he had entered it the first time for that funeral centuries ago, he had told himself to do some recon of it before having to enter it again. Now recon was pointless. Most of it, the front portion with its beautiful bell towers and large chapel, was gone as were a few buildings surrounding the area. A dark, smoking crater stood in its place filled with debris from the bombing

It had to have been a target for them. The church had stood for nearly a thousand years, or so he had heard from stories when he was little. It was a landmark, a symbol. Like the Capitol building, the Square Common, one of the fucking hospitals, and everything else they had decided to hit in the raid. Finn was actually kind of surprised they weren't in the middle of one right now.

Once checking every point around them, Finn swiftly moved ahead, planting himself behind the still standing back wall of the church. His squad followed behind and settled in with him. Right. Time to work. “Kun. Arana.”

Karé Kun, who was by his side, simply nodded. Their plan had been gone over a hundred times. Their group was to break off into three teams and surround the palace upon approach. From this point they would be able to go through the front, back, and west side while the air squads kept eyes on the east. Or that was the plan, but Iolo, having taken point on the corner to their left, raised his hand for a pause while his eyes stayed trained on something out there. “Finn. They're here.”

Took them long enough, but it wasn't supposed to change their plans. Iolo wasn't exactly green either, having been with the squad to infiltrate the palace after the invasion and basically save Finn's life. So he did take heed and moved over to see what Iolo saw.

Finn felt himself deflate at the group of enemy soldiers. “ _Oh-_ ”

“They haven't seen us.”

His hand found the comm in his ear anyway. “Black Leader, this is Stormtrooper. They have tanks.”

“ _You're kidding,”_ was Poe's very professional reply. _“What's your position?”_

“Behind the church. We haven't even split off yet.” Finn knelt down on one knee, ignoring the protests of his torso and hips, trying to block out the morning sun and thanking the kevlar armor for holding him together. “I've got a visual on two, but we're still in hiding.”

It looked more like they were the ones to stumble up on the tank. There was a squad of sixteen walking on foot with them, two on each side of the lumbering tanks, moving along towards a destination that must have been nearby. They hardly passed as soldiers, though. While they all had the same black and white scheme going on, most of them looked to be in whatever clothes they could find at the time, aside from the bandanas covering all of their faces.

“ _I'm coming back around.”_

“Don't. They'll try to shoot you down with those things,” Finn answered, realizing that there had to be more scattering throughout the city. “We can get past them. Just be advised.”

The First Order must have thought there were a large number of ground troops for them to bring out heavy artillery like this. In truth, most of their strength was in air support. So much so that there would be at least one fly over head every thirty seconds. All they truly did was catch the First Order off guard and now had them reeling in confusion. They had to have more than this.

“ _They need to be taken out either way,”_ Poe reasoned in his ear, _“If not, they'll just be a huge problem later. Blue Leader.”_

Snap's voice rang in, _“I heard. We're looking for more of them, but they're hard to see in the streets from our altitude.”_

“Finn.” Iolo gained his attention again, looking down at him with a question in his eyes. “Orders?” He was right. They were taking too long over a situation that should have been assessed long before the battle field.

He considered the pilots' situation of not being able to see the targets clearly, as well as Poe's suggestions of taking them out now and not worrying later. But they had a job to do that didn't include any of this. Finn opened his mouth to tell them to continue with the mission, but stopped short when one tank paused and its turret began to turn.

“ _Just do what you can,”_ his Prince continued, _“Those things'll have a hard time shooting us down. They're deploying them for precautionary measures. They have no idea how many people we have on the ground. Red Leader, keep eyes out for their air support.”_

“ _Copy, Black Leader,”_ Jess answered.

But Finn's voice overlapped hers, watching the situation in front of him in confusion. “Poe...” So much for call signs, but he didn't care right now. The tank's gun was pointing at a literal brick wall. What were they doing?

“ _What's wrong?”_

He was just about to apologize for that worried lilt in his Prince's voice, when the gun fired with a Earth shaking explosion, knocking the entire tank back on its own tracks before bouncing back, leaving the brick wall torn into like it was paper. Before the dust had a chance to settle, the First Order troops raised the guns and opened fire on the breach, two of them entering. The sound of screaming was unmistakable, and it took everything Finn had to not run forward immediately and compromise his entire team. “Poe, they're hunting down civilians!”

The comms came to life then, but he distinctly heard his Prince's curse while raising the rifle. _“Finn, I'm coming! Hold them!”_

“Leave the tanks to air support,” he told his squadron, “Take out the rest!”

In the volley of gunfire that followed, nearly half of the enemy troops were taken out before Finn's team was noticed. Taking cover behind what was left of the church wasn't an option with those tanks. “Split off and don't stop moving! _Go!_ ” They all divided, running in seemingly opposite directions before the tank's turret could rotate enough.

The target was the palace, but it would be pointless to win back a city that had been ruined. That's why the First Order was doing this in the first place. Distraction. Drawing them out to where the enemy wanted them to be.

A jet screamed low above them – had to be Poe – and released a missile on the tanks. _That_ explosion was much louder, only feeling the blast press through his body rather than actually hearing it. When he opened his eyes again there was a lot of dust, a lot of debris, a few dead bodies, and two wrecked tanks. “You got them, Poe! My squad's going in for the stragglers. Arana, Kun, get to your checkpoints. You're both further away than us.”

“ _Copy, Stormtrooper,”_ they both said into his ear piece, too far away to be within ear shot.

Finn looked to his own team, six of them plus himself. “Hard and fast. Let's go!” He charged forward first, shooting down one of the enemy soldiers before they could rise, hearing more gunfire behind him. Right now his goal was that breach and any civilians in there that were still left alive. Out of the original sixteen, eight of them were left including the two still inside the building. Quickly enough, the ones outside were gunned down without much of a standoff, the last two coming back out to attempt helping the others. Being so close to the breach, they popped right up on Finn, and he had taken them both out before even realizing it.

One of his men, a young kid he had only met that morning, dodged ahead of Finn and poked his head inside of the building. He looked back, shook his head, and kept moving to check the dead.

Finn looked inside anyway. Two men and one woman lay at the base of some stairs. They looked like they had been armed if the still holstered pistols were anything to go by, but it didn't help during the shock of it all. Whatever they were protecting upstairs- Maybe that's why the First Order went inside.

“ _Stormtrooper, this is Black Leader. Do you copy?”_

“I'm here,” Finn answered, tearing himself away from the scene and towards his squad. The one closest to him nodded. All dead. “The party was taken out. Kun and Arana have split off. We're headed to the checkpoints now.” He stepped down from the rubble, motioning to his squad, “Let's go,” and continued back on the predetermined path from before the mission took a turn.

“ _Blue Team is taking out the tanks,”_ Poe continued, _“Be advised. The enemy is going to have eyes on you from now on.”_

“Copy that,” but he knew already. They would have told whoever had been listening that they had been ambushed, just like their leaders had planned. Honestly, he was just grateful that Poe didn't ask about the civilians, about his people. Though his voice had sounded a little tight.

Finn hurt. He hurt everywhere. His body felt like it had given up two miles ago. The walking and running plus combat had basically been torture on his still healing wounds. He wouldn't be shocked at all if one or two had opened again. Not that he planned on saying anything, but he had his squad running now, unsure of what could be lurking in front of or behind them, and every step felt bone crushing. Yet he knew it was better than what his Prince was feeling right now.

They ran their way down a dark alley, and Finn could literally not wait for the next corner. They would be able to actually see the palace from that standpoint, and something in him just couldn't wait. But what little light that had streamed in from ahead of them was suddenly blocked out by another tank, stopping just as Finn screeched to a halt and turning its gun on them. It was all too fast, too late to run back, too late to rush it- “ _Get down!_ ”

He didn't know if the rest of his squad listened, but Finn fell to the ground as the tank fired, the round sailing over them. Or it must have fired. At some point during the blast, he had lost his hearing. But he opened his eyes to make sure he wasn't dead and that the rest of his body was still attached just as First Order troops began spilling into the alley like angry hornets, guns raised and firing.

Finn had been in the lead, so he was too close to be caught off guard by the soldier that tried to attack him. He pushed their gun away, using the shoulder guard of his own to ram it into his opponent’s chest, forcing his legs to push him to stand at the same time. He fired on them, three rounds until they were dead. Ah, _that_ he had heard. Maybe it wasn't permanent. “Poe, there's one on lower Third!”

The voice that came in sounded familiar, but Finn could hardly make out the words. Though it sounded like a protest. He could just faintly hear, _“You're too close-!”_

Then there was a scream. He looked up, hoping it wasn't coming from Poe's end sense everything was so confusing right now, and found another man lunging at him with a knife just in time to react. Finn braced his gun in front of him, blocking the enemy from running into his body, but the force of the other man's run had pinned him back into the wall. The knife dove for his face, and Finn ducked his head to the side in time to dodge, then again, the man attacking like he was crazed. He tried to push back on his gun, tried to use his legs to at least get the man's balance off of him-

_Something_ yanked him to the side, away from their destination, but he faintly felt the pressure of his enemy come off of him right before feeling the ground much harder. His body screamed, but he faintly realized that the blast had come from the tank. It had either fired again and half of his body was gone, or Poe had actually listened to him. Gritting his teeth, Finn opened his eyes and pushed off of his stomach to find the tank on its side, a third of it caved in on itself.

He looked back to his squad, spotting his attacker dead by a blast of shrapnel (good thing he had been pinned against that wall) and at least one of his own down. Another woman was injured, bleeding badly but still looking at him like the rest of them were: wide eyed, awaiting orders.

And fuck if he couldn't hear a damn thing.

“Can you continue?” he tried asking, and the woman nodded, proving it wasn't bad by removing her hand from the wound in her leg. He wasn't entirely convinced, but there was quite literally nothing else they could do right now. Finn glanced to the dead one again, the kid from before, and pushed the thought away from him. “Let's keep going,” he hoped he said, grabbing his gun and making to stand.

He stumbled. Of course he stumbled... Finn grit his teeth again and forced himself to stand upright. His body wasn't going to make it through this, just like his eardrums hadn't.

Or maybe they had. _“Finn, for the love of Christ! Someone answer me!”_

_Shit._ His hand flew to his ear. “The blow deafened me, Black Leader. I'm here.” He looked to his group again, nodded, and they stood. “We're Oscar Mike.”

“ _Don't do that to me again! I thought I had-”_

“We're down one from the skirmish, but we're still here.” _Calm down. Calm down._ “Thanks for the assist.”

He could almost feel his Prince taking a breath on the other end. _“I'm sticking close from now on, Stormtrooper. These tanks creep up out of nowhere, and we can't spot them all from above. Black Team, keep patrolling ahead.”_

“Copy that.” Whatever made him feel better, but Finn was second guessing having Poe in his ear at this point. That was too close, and the last thing he wanted was for his Prince to _listen_ to him die. But the thought fled when they finally made it out of the alley. “Visual on target, Black Leader.”

* * *

Poe literally had to keep reminding himself that this was all going to be over soon one way or another. It was way too tense right now. All of Ben's armies were sent out and had started converging straight on Finn's position. His nerves were shot, and this was driving him crazy. Now that he had stayed back from the rest of his squadron, letting them handle whatever was waiting ahead and behind all of the ground troops, Poe kept close on Finn's position. He rationalized it by accepting that the First Order was tracking that particular squad. Which was true. Karé and Iolo didn't have any problems unless they ran up on something by accident. Finn, on the other hand, was just having terrible luck.

Poe had taken out four more tanks (two of them in one shot again), when Finn finally said, _“We're on palace grounds, Black Leader. We're in.”_

_No more tanks_ was all Poe had heard out of that, and he nearly deflated in relief. “Just get your guys inside, Stormtrooper. They'll swarm you if they see you.”

“ _They aren't in on our position. We'll keep low.”_

Finally. Fucking finally. “Blue Leader, what's your status?”

“ _Must have taken out over a dozen tanks, Black Leader,”_ Snap answered back. _“We're still scouring.”_

Before he could say anything else, Jess came in. _“Black Leader, this is Red Leader. Spotted heavily armed choppers that look to be getting ready for take off on the east side of the palace, no more than five.”_

Poe couldn't see them from his angle in the air, but he believed it. Well, kind of. It didn't make sense that they would wait this long to launch a campaign against them. “We'll handle them.” The rest of Black Squadron was scrambling to cover the two remaining ground squads, and their hands were full with the tanks. “Snap, Jess, with me. We'll make it quick.”

He dove to the left, looping around to converge back with his team. Jess fell in first, having been close enough to the palace to see the choppers in the first place, and Snap came in not a second later.

Then his favorite voice in the world started speaking in his ear again. _“Black Leader, Stormtrooper. I've intercepted Arana. He's seen some enemy activity from the west, heavy artillery.”_

They were about to fly over the west side towards the east which worked out in this sense. “We'll take it out on our run, Stormtrooper.”

“ _He thinks it's anti-aircraft, Poe. Don't go that way. I have eyes on you. I see what you're doing.”_ He couldn't help but smile, hating that military talk so much. For a second, Finn sounded just like his nagging self.

But the warning was still heard. “Copy that. We'll take another route-”

Snap unceremoniously yelled into his comm. _“Poe, on our left-!”_

Before he could tell what was happening, there was a great fire as Snap's bird bucked beside him and exploded. He only watched on in stunned horror, his mind not catching up fast enough as he heard Jess scream, _“Snap!”_

And then there was Finn. _“Poe! On your right! On your-!”_

He looked, seeing the missile with no time to act. It hit, and he could only register that there was fire and pain and Finn's voice and-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everyone kept saying “DONT KILL FINN DONT KILL FINN” so I thought this was a good compromise. But anyway.
> 
> Sorry I didn't update in awhile! Work was horrible last week. I'll try to update again as soon as I can. Thank you all so so much for the support. ♥ I love you all. Despite this chapter, I really do love you. Sorry if it seems rushed through.


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is filled with horrible stuff. It's really bad. This is your warning.

That didn't just happen.

Finn watched Jess' plane go down, losing a wing on the way, and colliding side long into a building through the smoke and fire of what was left of Poe's. Snap's was just- That one was just gone.

He just stood there, watching and waiting for one of the birds to fly back into the air, listening hard for any word through the static that had taken over in his ear piece. It was too quick. One second the three of them were circling around over the city, the next there were missiles and screaming and explosions and static. He was dimly aware of other jets getting shot down, realizing that those helicopters they had meant to destroy were probably getting airborne right now. He was also aware of standing right outside of the palace on the lawn, the sunlight getting covered in clouds and smoke, just staring at where Poe's jet had just been.

It was too fast. That didn't happen. It was too fast.

A voice spoke up in the back of his mind, reminding him that he was tasked with protecting him, that he had just failed, that Poe was- Poe's communications had been knocked out, he'd been shot down. But Finn _knew_ deep in his bones, whether he wanted to admit it or not. He saw the missile coming, saw it hit, heard his name before the static burst. The realization came over him like cold water, but he couldn't face it. His Prince had been shot down; that's all he knew for certain. He could be hurt, though. He could be dying right now, trying to talk into the ruined comms, trying to reach him for help.

He's the bodyguard. He swore that no one would ever touch him. He had promised. This couldn't be happening. That couldn't have just happened. It was too fast.

“Finn!”

He jerked around quickly, yanking his arm away from Iolo's grip. The other man looked at him with sadness, misery, _pity_ , but sympathy and understanding. He was shaken, too. “You're in command now.”

Command.

Finn turned back to what he could see of the crash site, smoke still billowing towards the sky. Poe needed him. He couldn't-

He turned back to Iolo. Their mission. The country. Poe's guilt. His Prince's burden.

“He could be okay,” the other man told him, not looking like he actually believed it. “Finn, I know. I _do_ know, but we have to finish this. They got us this far. We have to go.”

Finn tried to think on the logical side of things. Poe and the others had gone down maybe a mile or so away, and the palace was right in front of him. If he could get in and finish the job, this could all be over in less than fifteen minutes. It would take far too long to go back to the crash site, never mind that he probably wouldn't survive the trip.

The realization hit him suddenly that there was nothing he could do for Poe. If his Prince was alive and unharmed, he would get himself out of trouble long before Finn could arrive. If he was alive and hurt, he would die before anyone could get to him. If he was dead, well- There was nothing he could do from here except finish the job.

He cut his comm piece away from the overbearing static like a knife to the chest. “Karé, what's your position?”

“ _We've reached our checkpoint,”_ she responded. _“All accounted for.”_

Finn looked back up to Iolo, who had met and rendezvoused their squads at the corner of the palace. “Get into position. We'll meet at the next checkpoint.”

Iolo clenched his jaw and nodded, turning away to head his group to their objective. Finn turned back to what was left of his own squad, ignoring their confused and concerned stares, noting that his injured soldier didn't look any better than she had before.

“Let's go,” he sighed, all of that bravado from earlier extremely far away as he walked around them. “This is the easy part. We find him, it's over.”

He didn't look back at the pillar of black smoke.

* * *

It was surprisingly easy to convince himself that Poe was okay, therefore pushing all thought of what had happened from his mind. After all, it was so incredibly outrageous of a thought that it hardly seemed real anyway.

There was no resistance on the palace grounds aside from the armed choppers finally taking flight above their heads. Otherwise, it was silent and put into perspective how little of an army Ben actually had. He was smart, though – or someone with him was smart – to disperse his power just so it looked threatening enough. Even so, Finn wasn't about to underestimate it. Infiltrating the Royal Guard had been a gigantic move, creating chaos where none was needed and proving their numbers and strength thereof. Not to mention they had a lot of toys. Ben definitely had help, probably from an Empire sympathizer. All the more reason to kill him.

It might have been a move that was bold as hell, but Finn led his team through the front entrance. Unlike the side and especially the back, the front of the palace only had one real way in and out unless one counted the tunnels underground, but those were too far away from the protection of the walls.

There was no one guarding the front, making it easy for his team to slip in without cause for alarm. Going undetected was quite literally too good to be true, so Finn stayed on guard for an assault even as two people rounded on them. They were taken out easily – so easily that Finn nearly stopped right there and questioned what had happened to what he once called his life – before looking back to his squad. “Split up. Get to positions.”

They listened, quickly splitting off into two man units (one of his own going to their rendezvous by themselves due to the soldier that was lost), while Finn entered the King's Road alone. During the siege just a few days ago, Ben's men had been all over these hidden passages, so his guard didn't let down here either.

He just really wished he could say that the palace looked just the same as he had left it. There were bullet holes splitting the wood at every wall he looked at, dark stains of blood in the carpet and smeared across the marble paneling, some whole chunks of unblemished pillars blown away from explosions. Almost worst of all, it was dark. Not so dark that he couldn't see, but most of the lights weren't working whether they had been blown away by gunfire or simply unlit. It felt like walking through a nightmare. Coupled with the pain shooting up his spine, the dark edges around his vision, and the very distant thought of Poe, this _was_ a nightmare.

There was only the mission now. Everything else was secondary. Somewhere, he realized that he wasn't going to see tomorrow anyway, so today had to count for something. He thought of the letter left with Leia, hating himself and his cowardice. It was stupid to think Poe would ever be safe, and now his Prince would never know.

The thought entered his mind unbidden and wouldn't leave no matter what distraction Finn tried and failed to think of, but his feet still led him to the right place, Iolo and Karé already waiting on him.

“It's set,” the first one told him. “We just wait now.”

Waiting was such hell, though.

They had come to what seemed to be a dead end, but was in actuality another revolving entrance into Leia's former office. It was no accident that one of the most well guarded rooms in the palace, one of the few that led directly to the bunker, was the usual office space for the head of state. Strategically, if Ben _wasn't_ in that room, someone else of high importance was. It was their first step and, from there, the mission diverted into whatever they could do to get the job done. Even if he wasn't here, Ben wouldn't be hard to find. Sources claimed he was still in the palace, so it was a start.

“Finn,” Karé tried, but he shook his head in return. Now they just had to wait a few predetermined minutes for the other teams to set their own charges before the timer's ran down and the ensuing explosion would announce their arrival. He focused on that, trying to figure out how to enter the room, knowing that he was more than likely going to go first. Yet, still, she continued, “You're shaking.”

“I'm trying to not _think_ about that now, Kun. Thank you.” His voice was shaking, too, hands hurting from gripping the gun so tight to him. He was desperately trying to get his mind back on task, back on the mission, about what to do next, about everything that could go wrong, and not anything that was outside of this moment.

“It's okay,” she said anyway, softer, quieter, “We have a minute. It's okay.”

No, it's _not_ okay. Nothing about any of this was okay. “I'm fine. We have a job to finish.”

She seemed to catch the hint then and went quiet. Iolo, on the other hand, was staring at him. “He could be okay,” he said, not for the first time, “We all have to believe that.”

Poe could be okay. “Or he-” Finn decided half way to not finish that thought. “We don't know.” He also really didn't want to tune into the lifeless static again.

Instead of trying in vain to get him to talk, Iolo knelt down to his pack of C4. He dug around one-handed for a second, the other still holding his gun at the hip, before pulling out one of his prizes. “I brought these along last minute,” he explained, handing two grenades to Karé. “Snuck them in the bags for the other teams, too.”

It was weird how one word took Finn out of his body and straight back into another life, a flash of memories so sharp that they might as well be happening right now, propelled back to the night that he followed Poe around town just to end up at the airfield to watch him fly. He only realized a moment later that he had already reached out and took the two grenades offered him, pinning them onto his belt without a thought. Finn blinked hard, trying to bring himself back to the moment.

Karé took a deep breath, her earlier objection of trying to make her commander talk seeming to be all but forgotten. “Any second now, right?”

Iolo nodded. “There'll be a short buzzer, but it's soon.”

The sooner the better. Finn closed his eyes and took his own breath, trying in vain to clear his mind. “Kylo Ren is our primary target. Kill anyone in the way.” They knew this – they all knew this – but it felt good to reaffirm it even if it was just for himself.

He got a “Yes, sir” in return from both of them, then a soft buzzing echoed against the wall. Finn drew back during the time span of about five seconds before the explosives caught and the wall blew open. It wasn't as loud or nearly as dirty as the tanks had been, but it was different when it was the palace being hurt even further, knowing what they were there to do. And he could not get the image of Poe getting hit out of his head.

Again, his body took over for him, and Finn was already barreling into the room and opening fire on anyone who wasn't in his units before even realizing what was happening. When he came back to himself, to the smoke and plaster and dust and ringing in his ears, he scanned the bodies and the enemies still standing, screaming at each other and countering the attack. No sign of Kylo Ren, though some people quickly took off through a door, and he found himself following.

Finn wasn't _there_. If asked for a debriefing later, assuming there would even be a later, he wouldn't be able to recount a damn thing. He felt like he was floating, detached from everything all in the attempt to pull himself away from Poe's death and complete his only wish. Nothing _felt_ real. He didn't even hurt anymore. It was just the situation, the mission, the last real purpose pumping through his veins.

He could still see the dark plume of smoke, still hear the stuttering confession of love on baited breath-

Iolo rounded a corner ahead of him, straight out of one of the great halls. “Where are they? I was following-”

Finn very nearly ignored him and kept going just for the sake of continuity. But he knew that wasn't right, that it was strange behavior, so he stopped and gratefully found that he wasn't shaking. “I was after a group of four. They should have passed you.”

He realized it before the recognition crossed Iolo's face. “The King's Road. They took a passage.”

If they were being so secretive, then his hunch was right. They were going to Kylo Ren. Without much conferring, Finn bypassed him, walking ahead slowly and examining the walls where Iolo had just come. There were few hidden passages this way which all just doubled back on themselves, just ways to get somewhere else quicker. He could feel the other man following at his heels and was honestly glad about the company.

Finn stopped, raising a hand and listening closely over the far off gunfire and bombs from the outside until- yes, those were voices. Perhaps it was careless to walk into the first passage that presented itself without so much as taking a look first, but he did it with Iolo following quietly behind. He stayed to the wall, moving like a cat and desperately wishing he had attached the silencer on his gun ages ago. After a few feet, he could make out the voices that must have stopped running away, assuming they were safe.

“-disgusting little _cretin_!”

“Would you stop?” a quieter male's voice replied to the female. “We have more problems right now than you accusing people of incompetence. Did you see what his men had just done?”

“That wasn't him,” another male, a younger one, replied. “Did _you_ see him?”

“Who else could it have been?” the first man spoke up again. Finn could hear them clear as day now even with his pummeled eardrums. “You said yourself that he's here.”

“ _I_ said,” the second man growled back, “that he's in the _city_. I never said _anything_ about- Captain, my sources saw him escaping a down _jet_ a mile from here. It's impossible that Dameron's in this palace. A hopeful rumor made up by idiots like _this_ -”

Finn blinked, ice striking through his heart, too afraid to hold on to hope. It was easier to do when the older one blundered back into the conversation. “ _My_ sources tell me that he is in this palace! I tell you, _he_ led this assault.”

“Lieutenant,” the woman spoke up again, “I feel that you're giving in to these fool's idealizations of their damned Prince- _Do not speak..._ He is not a God. He is not a celebrity. He is not a _Prince_. He is a man. And he will die bloody and screaming like a man. Now, are you _certain_ he survived the crash?”

“Injured and unconscious but alive,” the younger man spoke, “so _my_ sources say.”

A hand against his shoulder clued Finn into the fact that he had been pacing backwards. He looked back to Iolo, who looked shocked and scared and happy, and Finn had _no idea_ what he looked like. Poe was alive? It could have easily been false in the confusions of war, but it was more information than they had before. _Injured. Unconscious._ He could be dead by now.

Iolo nodded to him and the idea passed to him as easy as speaking. They had their information. Time to move in. The other moved next to him, going in side by side, before turning the corner and seeing the speakers for the first time across the length of the long hallway and, unfortunately, vice versa. The woman whipped around, blonde hair making a halo around her head in the flash of calm. _We called her Phasma when we were kids._

The gunfire erupted before Finn could register that it wasn't just the three of them, but an entire platoon made up of roughly nine men firing back at them. The two men in officer's garbs were killed, but the hit that Phasma took did nothing to deter her. That was all he could see before forcing himself to take cover again behind the wall, realizing too late that Iolo had ducked behind the opposite one. There were heavy footfalls, so they shared a nod before running in opposite directions.

All thoughts of the mission – of Kylo Ren – had fled Finn's mind, as he tried to get his comm to work again while running. Poe's station was still a burst of static, and Leia's was the same if not quieter, probably meaning there was a jammer set up in the palace somewhere. It made sense and prevented him from getting word out to the pilots or any second wave that the Queen decided to send. Maybe he still couldn't help from this distance, but Poe survived the crash. He _had_ to. It had to be true. If the First Order believed it, then why shouldn't he? He had hard, concrete evidence now, but getting word out seemed to be impossible.

There was still a job to do, but Finn was getting pulled into even more directions than before, _especially_ with no confirmation on Kylo Ren's activity.

He was still on the bottom level, he thought to himself. The enemy hostiles were definitely following him, but he knew without a doubt that he could lose them with the right passageway. He could duck into the kitchens before he passed it up on his run, take the passage there and enter the garage. If they were _smart_ , they would be evacuating Kylo Ren right now. If there was no strong evidence towards the fact, there was another passage there that led directly to the center of the palace, straight to the bunker, and it would be as easy as fish in a barrel. The quicker this was over, the quicker he could find Poe.

Finn's shoulder slammed into the kitchen's heavy metal door, and the relief he felt when he realized that there was no one else inside was practically unfathomable. He turned back long enough to set a stool against the door lock, just long enough to make a _little_ time, before running across the room for the same hidden door that Poe had sauntered through so many nights ago. Before he could even reach it, they were already banging against his impromptu brace, much closer than he had thought they were to him.

“ _Poe Dameron!_ ” Phasma's voice screamed.

He was already halfway through the revolving door when it occurred to him, _she thinks I'm him_ , and another three steps before he stopped. “She thinks I'm him.” Iolo had pale skin and a mop of dark hair. They must have seen him and thought-

They were still banging against the door, shooting at it, and he could hear, “There's nowhere else to hide! Die like the lying filth you are!”

“They think I'm him,” he mumbled to no one again. There was no time to really think about it – the brace wouldn't hold for much longer – but he knew that Poe was their primary target upon discovering that he was actually in the city. Killing Poe, like they had wanted to do from the start, would practically give Kylo Ren the throne and the fighting would be over. If they thought that Poe was dead, they'd withdraw, they'd stop hunting his Prince, they'd assume the war was won and stop fighting back.

The idea was barely through his head before Finn doubled back into the kitchen, pulling his gun to hang from the strap across his back so he could use both hands. The kitchens had a grand total of ten gas stoves, all ancient and expensive, but Finn only had time to turn the gas on for five of them without them lighting, opening the oven doors as he came to them. He began working on the sixth one when the thought that he was just stalling slipped into his head, and the bar stool began to splinter with a loud crack against Phasma's beating. “ _Dameron!_ ”

Finn unhooked one of Iolo's grenades and stalled again, staring down at the little thing in his hand, the smell of gas beginning to get to him from being so close. He wanted to think about Poe, about the first time they met, about his soft hair, about the crinkles of his eyes, about watching him fly, about their first kiss- But his face wouldn't come to mind. Neither did his mother or his childhood home or the friends he hadn't seen in years. All he could think about was how he had felt when he thought Poe was dead- How he had felt the night before, suffering from the selfish thought that Poe would never know how deeply he loved him. All he could think about was that fucking letter, and how dearly he wished that he had never written it.

Blinking through the tears, trying to keep his hands steady, he held the lever down and pulled the pin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can honestly say that writing this actually made me depressed. Like not haha angst. No. I am a downer. I need to go watch TV.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed it? I'll try to have the next chap up very soon. Again, I'm overwhelmed by the response of last chapter. Thank you guys so so much. ♥


	24. Chapter 24

Red stained plexiglass, twisted metal, and dark brown cobblestone came into sharp focus for but a second before blurring into a haze again. A flickering orange light was casting a looming shadow over everything, making the world look red and black.

He was warm. Hot. It occurred to him, while trying to see through the blurred shadows again, that he was a _person_ , a _being_ , and maybe he should try to breathe-

Pain jolted through his body, and Poe whimpered. Recent memories flooded back just as he recognized the sound of gunfire and yelling.

“ _This one's alive!”_ That was close, a woman, young, but he couldn't so much as look at anything but the scene in front of him, the world going dark again. Poe fought to stay together, stay awake.

“ _It's on fire!”_ an older man replied, further away, _“Get the pilot out!”_

The pilot. Him. But Snap and Jess- He couldn't hear anything from the communicator in his helmet, and his arm refused to cooperate and work with him. Then there was the sound of shooting coming from all around, like he had just landed on a front line that hadn't existed last he knew. How long was he out? Poe tried to focus his vision again.

He hadn't heard any breaking glass, but there were suddenly hands on him. “Hey, can you talk?”

That question took a second to even process, much less attempt to answer. When he tried to speak, a whine escaped his throat and that was it. Words were beyond him.

Deftly, Poe felt the hands unbuckle his harness and remove the oxygen mask, the ensuing gulps of smoky air he couldn't help but taking racking through his body.

“I see it, I see it,” the woman's voice told him again, jostling his flight suit and moving one of his uncooperative arms over her shoulders, “We have to get you out of here first, okay? Come on.” She must have tried to lift him, because his whole body moved and a scream tore itself out of him. “I know, I know, I'm sorry,” the voice rambled frantically, “It's not far. We're almost there. Come on.”

Whoever this was, she was definitely trying to help him. Poe grit his teeth, feeling his arm tighten around her even as his eyes stayed shut tight, trying to work with her to go in the same direction she was leading him.

His back touched against a cold, rocky surface, but his body still burned from the movements to get there. “We made it. I got you,” she told him, jostling with his suit again before yelling, “I need help over here!”

His neck suddenly felt cold, then shoulders- chest- She was taking his suit off- Poe grunted when the fabric caught against something, and finally realized that he had been impaled in the crash. To be fair, his whole body should be crushed, if not spread across his city in thousands of pieces. If this did him in, then that was pretty shitty.

Poe's eyes flickered open as best they could, seeing a gray sky against black smoke and tops of buildings. He could still feel the warmth of a fire not too far away, but the shooting had receded a bit. There were... very important things he knew should be on his mind right now, but nothing would come to him. Everything just felt so damn dazed.

“I'm here,” the man's voice from earlier reappeared much closer now.

The woman replied, “Something from the plane went through him. It needs to come out. I think it missed anything that's vital. But he has a concussion. I need to see how bad it is.”

“All right. Move. Let me see it.”

Shuffling and a hand touched his face, another on his chest. “He's awake,” she said, “I think he's oriented, too. He helped pull himself out of the crash.” Then softer, which must have been directed to him, “Just stay still, okay? It's going to hurt coming out.”

Damn right it's going to fucking hurt. He felt his helmet being removed, his head moving at her will, and hands in his hair. Then a light in his eyes.

The man spoke quieter than before, shuffling around again. “It's going to hurt a lot, but it looks like it went in straight. He might pass out. Don't let him bite off his damn tongue.”

He couldn't see anything for the light, not that he could before anyway. “Doesn't look like any brain damage. I think he'll-” The light stopped moving above him, hovering against the increasingly darker sky, before finally clicking off and leaving spots in his waning vision. “Holy shit.”

The hands on his torso froze. “What?”

Poe was too concerned with keeping his eyes open than to worry about whatever had stopped the woman. Maybe there were enemies about to round on them, or another air strike in bound. Poe blinked harder than before, trying to regain what sight he could, and finally spotted a face above him. It was a woman, young with long blond hair tied up like an afterthought, upside down seeing as how she was cradling his head, and staring at him with a look of horror. Maybe he should be more worried about that – was half of his face missing or something? – but even she began to blur above him.

The man whispered a low, “Holy shit,” after a moment.

For a long time, Poe could only hear encroaching gunfire, jets flying overhead, and the roar of flames. He could even, for a second, believe that he had made these people and he was actually alone.

Her voice rang out again, even more frantic than before. “You have to get it out. Get it out. Get it out!”

“All right, all right!” The man's hands started moving around him again before stopping. “Just hold him still! Hold him!”

She must have leaned over him. He felt an arm wrap around his chest, another around his throat, holding his jaw tight. She smelled like cinnamon and smoke.

“On three,” he said. “One-”

Something ripped out of him, and his back left the cold cobbled street, a ringing in his ears and darkness flooding in.

* * *

He was shaking, sniffling, his little hand snugging tightly into hers. The sterile taste of rubbing alcohol coated his nose and tongue, everything bathed in whites and grays and some odd beiges here and there. Poe had never wanted to see this room again and he held on tighter.

“It's okay, _cariño,”_ said the quiet and weak sound of a voice he would never forget. “Everything will be okay.”

“I'm scared.” His voice was his own, not that of a six year old's but a man's. He found that his hand was large, almost enveloping hers. At a long, terrible length, Poe forced himself to look up to her, grateful that she looked more like his mother than the shell of a person that had died in this bed. _“Mamá, tengo miedo.”_

“Oh, my sunshine,” she muttered in a weak voice that didn't quite belong to her. His mother's hand easily untwisted from his despite the harsh grip he had on her, moving slowly towards him. Immediately, on instinct, he leaned down to let her cup his face, watching her eyes stare into his with a soft and intensely happy smile. For a moment, she stayed that way, searching his face for something that seemed to delight her in every aspect, the look of pure love radiating from her features, thumb gently making circles into his skin. Her mouth formed a thin line, eyes shining with the strength to blink back tears and swallowing thickly. “You've made me the luckiest person on Earth, baby,” her voice chocked, a smile and laugh shining through, “I'm so proud of you.”

His hand found hers on the side of his face, and a sob racked through his body. How could he tell his mother what he really was? A liar. A murderer to people who believed in him, trusted in him. A fraud. Every expectation she had of him was something he didn't want for his life and only became twisted versions of what should have been. He didn't want a kingdom. He didn't want a crown. How could he tell her that? His father died for this. How could he tell her that he failed everyone? Killed everyone? If he had just wanted it more, if he had been loyal to his mother and this plan, then he would have been a good king. If he had just tried harder, then he could have saved everyone. But how could he tell her the truth? He couldn't. Not now, not like this. And he was good at lying.

“ _Estoy tan orgulloso de ti.”_

Poe pried open his eyes, finding her face again through the tears, and his breath caught at the sight. She looked back at him full of love and pride and _knowing_. He understood, then... His _mamá_ knew everything and was proud of him despite it all. _Because_ of it all.

His hand curled around hers to lace through her fingers, his other gently finding her wrist, staring at her in awe before looking away to a figure that drew his eye. Across the bed from him, Snap stood with all the seriousness the man seldom possessed, face unreadable but missing any trace of anger or hatred.

A hand clapped him on the back. “Poe.” He looked to the voice, gripping his mother's hand in the fear that she would disappear, only to find warm eyes full of pride and love and knowing. “I'm going with you.”

He tried breathing, his voice only managing to crack and break. _“Finn.”_

* * *

Poe jerked awake, pain shooting up his side from the sudden movement. His hand found the source, feeling a layer of cloth over a thick bandage. Right, he crashed. He was impaled. He- Where was he?

His eyes opened, scanning his surroundings and immediately finding that he wasn't outside anymore. Instead, his vision adjusted to a dark cellar, shelves above him bolted into a brick wall holding jars and cleaning supplies. It took a minute to realize that he was laying on a couch with a crochet blanket tossed over him, that the gunfire outside was loud but far enough away to not be a major worry, and that he could hear voices.

“We need to get back out there,” a woman spoke, the same one from before that brought back the thought of cinnamon. “We can help. We can't stay in here and hide.”

“We'll be _killed_ ,” the same older man spoke up. Poe carefully looked around until he realized that they must have been upstairs, on the landing near the door. “There's a lot more of them out there now,” he went on, “on _both_ sides. The best we can do is stay out of it. Let them handle it.”

“ _Let them-!?”_ The man incessantly shushed her, making her voice go into a low whisper for a moment, but rose until Poe could hear her again. “-tanks are destroying people's _homes_ and you want to _stay_ -”

“Have you forgotten who the fuck we have in our basement?” Poe went ridged. “We can't just _leave_ him. He's injured, and you _know_ that those bastards would love to get their hands on him. If he dies, we _all_ lose.”

Oh. Shit. Poe shifted, trying to get himself enough leverage with his hands to sit up, to make himself come back from the hell he just went through. It can't be that bad. He was still here. He couldn't have been out for long.

“I haven't forgotten,” the woman snarled back. “We have two _good_ people down there who were trying to protect us, to _save_ us. They weren't scared. The Prince isn't scared.”

“I'm not scared! I'm being fucking sensible!”

Two. Despite the protests from his torso, he rose up enough to take a better look around. Small laundromat setup, old holiday decorations, a couple of stockpiles of canned goods, a busted TV, old toys- “Jess,” he gasped, scrambling for a better view, finding another couch on the far side of the room that sat closer to the stairs. She was bandaged, bloodied, and bruised, orange jumpsuit gone with a thicker blanket than his tucked over her up to her shoulders. But her chest rose and fell in even breaths, and Poe had to stop himself from throwing something across the room just to wake her up.

The memory of Snap's last moments flooded his mind, and he realized that he really didn't want to wake her. In fact-... In fact... she was safe here. But he couldn't stay. Finn was in the palace. And, from the sounds of things, nothing had been resolved yet. He had no idea how long he was unconscious for, but everything should have worked out by now. Which meant something at some point went wrong. That was... kind of okay, though. They expected for a multitude of things to go wrong with the limited information they had. But Finn had seen him go down; he remembered hearing the warning before the missile hit. What if something went really wrong? Went badly wrong? That was _his_ palace. _His_ enemy. He couldn't hide in a cellar under the skirts of the people that trusted him. He couldn't stay.

A foot hadn't even touched the floor before- “Where are you going?”

Poe jolted again, gritting his teeth from the stab of pain, looking to the corner next to him to find a boy with dusty blonde hair about six or seven years old. The kid sat with crossed legs on a crate, eyes wide and slightly accusing. “You can't leave. You're not spo'sed to move neither.”

The grown man stared at the kid for a second, then glanced back and forth to the stairs, trying to think of some sort of reply. The kid continued in a mock whisper, “I'm spo'sed to yell when one of you wake up.”

Poe blinked at him. “You didn't,” he finally decided to whisper back.

The boy's suspicious glare intensified, eyes narrowing as he leaned a bit closer, loudly whispering, “Are you really Prince Poe?”

He blinked again, glaring back and leaning down to meet the kid's gaze. “... I'm on a secret mission.”

“ _Oh my God.”_

“You can't tell anyone, all right?” Poe assured, trying to calm down the kid with eyes bigger than the sun, and he realized that he was about to put the poor guy through a world of trouble with his parents. “I _have_ to get back to the palace.”

Finally, the boy's eyes dimmed down enough to furrow. “You can't. That's where the bad guys were,” he whispered back, “And you can't leave anyway. The bad guys blocked the roads and stuff. No one can go anywhere. They watch.”

Something rolled in his gut that was a line between nausea and hatred, but Poe pushed it down, waving at the walls. “You hear that? It's crazy outside. With all the commotion, everyone's confused. It'll be nothing for just one guy to slip pass them.”

“But you _can't_ , though,” the kid said again, his whisper getting a little louder. “Ashley said it's gone, anyway.”

“What's gone?”

“The palace.”

His stomach fell to his feet, heart jumping to his throat. He could throw up right now. Easily. “What?”

The boy leaned back a little, but hardly seemed to sense Poe's change. “My sister said that her friend said that her boyfriend saw the whole palace on fire and now it's gone.”

A fire? No, that... _definitely_ wasn't part of the plan... But there was no telling how much of that rumor was truth, so he put the idea away for now, glancing back to the stairs. “It doesn't matter,” he swallowed his resolve, looking back to the boy, “I have to go, anyway. Even if the palace isn't there. Can you help me?” Instead of another protest against the impossible, the kid's eyes widened again. “I just need you to help me get out of this house. I can handle the rest.” The little one sat up straight, and Poe thought to add, pointing to the stairs, “ _Without_ them knowing.”

He could probably talk his way through them, save the kid a ton of grief if they were caught, but this was the quickest option. Whoever had saved him, the man had a very strong point and wouldn't let Poe go without a good argument. It took too much time.

The kid looked between him and the stairs, uncertain for a moment. Then his little glare reappeared, and he leaned forward again. “What's your secret mission for?”

“I have to stop the bad guys and save my friend,” Poe easily answered. _Save them all_ only came to mind after the thought of Finn stuck in their burning home.

The boy stayed like that for second, probably just for effect, before nodding and gaining a bright smile. “My sister sneaks out through the side door cause no one uses it anymore. She made me promise not to tell and let me stay up late one night when mum and dad were workin'. I think you're okay to tell, but you can't tell no one else.”

“I promise,” he nodded, glancing to the stairs and not hearing voices, “but can you get me pass them, though?”

“Yeah, that's easy,” the boy nodded, climbing down from his crate one leg at a time. “I sneak out after bedtime for snacks like three times a week. They don't notice. But weren't you hurt?”

“I'm better.” Poe tugged the blanket off of him, spying his pistol a shelf above his head, out of reach of the curious boy. He stood carefully and checked himself over, grateful they hadn't cut too much of his undershirt away to get to his wound, his flight suit hanging limply at his waist. He tied the arms together to secure it a little better and grabbed the gun, tucking it away. With one last glance to Jess, he nodded to the boy. “All right. Lead the way.”

Without much in the way of caution, the kid quickly and quietly scaled the stairs, Poe following a little slower. It was one part due to him being bigger and making more noise, and the rest to how badly his whole body ached. And this was the easy part.

The boy stopped at the threshold, looking this way and that, before waving Poe along and continuing. He swiftly followed, emerging into a dark hallway that immediately connected to a small but nice little kitchen. He couldn't help but notice that there was no power. There probably wasn't any in the whole city.

He still heard muffled voices, but the boy grabbed his hand and tugged him in the opposite direction, straight through the kitchen and coming out into a pristine dining room. _They're doctors_ , it occurred to him suddenly. That's why those two had been out there. They were doctors trying to help the soldiers... How fucking lucky was he to-?

“They're in the living room,” the kid whispered, still dragging him along to a door with obviously old locks. He released his hand, little fingers working on the deadbolt. “One of them would go and check on you sometimes. We don't got long.”

The door swung open, the creak it echoed sounding much louder than the planes soaring overhead. While Poe had frozen at the sound, the kid reacted by opening it further and shoving at him to go. “The bad guys are in the streets, but that's an alley. They won't see you out there.”

“Okay, okay.” Poe stepped outside, his whole body thrumming with pain – it was becoming increasingly apparent that he had sustained more than one injury – looking up and down the alley to find that he was gratefully alone. He turned back. “Hey, what's your name?”

“Mikey,” the boy frowned, “but I can't go with you, Prince Poe. Dad said I can't go outside. I'll get in trouble.”

“That's okay,” Poe shook his head. “You know that girl in there? That's my friend, Jessika. Can you look after her for me?”

Mikey nodded furiously, but said instead, “Is that your girlfriend?”

Why did everyone-? “No,” Poe, despite himself, grinned. “You remember my friend that I told you needs my help at the palace?” The boy nodded. “That's my boyfriend. I need to go get him.” _Boyfriend._ That sounded weird. A nice weird.

The boy's eyes grew wide again. “You're going to save your boyfriend? That's so cool!”

It was a wonderful surprise to see how naïve the boy was, and Poe desperately wished that he'd be able to stay that way when this was over. “Yeah, man...” He extended a hand. “Thanks, Mikey.”

The boy smiled a toothy grin, clasping his hand and shaking it once. Without wasting anymore time, Poe let go and started running, not looking back.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another one of those scenes that took up way too much space. More about everything else will be in the next chapter. Though, I have a couple of papers due by the end of the week, so things might be running a little late.
> 
> Anyway, thanks for reading and for all the awesome comments! You guys are wonderful.


	25. Chapter 25

His city had never looked like this before. Even from the sky in his now ruined plane, the city didn't look like this. It made Poe question just how long he had been unconscious. Evidently, long enough for Leia to send a second and much larger wave of ground troops in.

He paused long enough at a cluster of bodies – impossible to tell which side won the struggle with the mix match of groups – stealing one of the First Order's black and white bandannas to cover half of his face. The orange jumpsuit of his people's air support was still hanging on to him by the waist, so he didn't expect anyone to mistake him for an enemy. He just needed to make sure he wasn't too recognizable.

But it was very hard to imagine this as being _real_. This wasn't his city. It couldn't be. Nearly every building he passed by had large chunks of it missing, bodies and husks of tanks littered the streets, every now and then he would come across a skirmish and had to dodge back around the block to avoid the fighting, windows were broken, blood was smeared everywhere, cars were on fire, smoke and smog clung to him- This wasn't home. The thought that this wasn't actually happening was the only thing that kept him going, kept him from stopping mid-run to throw up and collapse. What _did_ remind him how real this was, though, was the pain. His body thrummed with it, especially his side. Whenever he took a wrong step, his body reminded him with a jolt straight up his spine, begging him to scream out and give his position away. Then there was his vision. It was fine until he had started jogging then running. There were spots and a whiteness along the edges, reminding him that he's not entirely put together yet. He was dizzy and nauseous, and this seemed like a terrible idea.

He wasn't about to turn back, though. The fighting was supposed to end not ten minutes after Finn entered the palace, assuming he could get his hands around Kylo Ren's throat quick enough. So something had gone wrong. Again, it was predicted that something would go wrong, but the more time that passed, the more Poe's nerves got the better of him. Had the palace really been on fire? Was it really gone? Did Finn even go in or did he turn back towards the city, towards the crash? Was he-

Poe kept running, trying to stay out of everyone's sight, working on pure adrenaline alone. He just knew he had to get to the palace. He had to end this. It was all because of him, because of his very existence. He had to be the one to finish it.

There were so many dark pillars of smoke rising to the clouds that he couldn't tell if the child's rumor was real or not, until he had been running down one of the older cobbled streets for a few minutes, too focused on keeping himself upright to realize something missing on the horizon. He slowed to a stop, trying to catch his breath in the act, looking for the white spires of home. There was little else to do than give in to panic and keep running.

Few people knew the King's Roads and even fewer knew of the tunnels that spread through the palace lands and opened to the city. It was one of _those_ secrets, for obvious reasons, even if Finn had been entrusted to it, but he kept running pass one of those entrances to make sure there was even a destination to run to, heading straight for a parting between the stacked buildings for a better look.

Poe skidded to a halt, unintentionally pausing at the sight when he should be moving away from anyone that would kill him. The palace still stood, strong and white and beautiful in the mayhem around it, but a great fire licked up the far side, black smog billowing into the air like a massive bomb had gone off. It was built to withstand being destroyed by something so simple as a fire, so it had to have been an explosion. He remembered the armed helicopters and the tanks. For them to shoot at something that was supposed to be their own home base, then Finn must have succeeded and killed Ben. Or Leia ordered another strike during the chaos, _knowing_ that they had their own people inside. Would she do that? To save the city, to save their people, probably. She was willing before. But to knowingly lead Finn to his death? Would she do that?

_No._ Poe swallowed down the bile in his throat. He couldn't believe that. He couldn't believe that Finn was gone. Most of the palace still stood. This fire told him nothing other than it was on fire.

He quickly doubled back, stopping at an old door that looked to be blocked up years ago. He rammed his shoulder into the old padlock until it finally gave and the door fell open to reveal stairs going down into the dark.

* * *

The tunnel was just enough of a maze to be safe, electric emergency lights dotted here and there by the palace's generators, but Poe still moved as quietly as he could. Every now and then, he could hear something screeching across the sky far above. Though he was pleased that his general path wasn't hindered with smoke, especially when he _finally_ reached a thick wooden dead end.

The door wasn't meant to be opened from the outside, which was a major problem with this plan, but he was pretty sure that it wasn't built to _not_ be opened from the outside. Meaning there had to be some way in, even if his weight against the platform, boots digging into the hard earth, teeth barred against the struggle, wasn't really doing it so well. So he rammed it, hoping beyond hope that people were too busy on the other side to consider the intruder, even if his thoughts hardly lingered on the danger of this situation. In fact, his head was swimming, tossing him around more and more with every hit against the dark oak.

He considered giving up on the barrage, maybe shooting a hole in the wall big enough for his hand to slip through, when it finally budged. It occurred to him that it wasn't necessarily closed as much as it was blocked from the other side. He could work with that. Poe took a short running start and rammed into it wood again, each time pushing forward by a couple of inches until – after five jarring hits – there was enough room for him to slip free.

He'd never seen the palace quite so... dark before. The passage emerged into one of the sitting rooms, the same one he was in when told about all of this bodyguard business days ago, but the only light there was filtered through the curtained windows. For the most part, the room looked untouched which was what made it seem so unnerving to him. He pushed harder against the makeshift door, pushing along the heavy antique couch that had been barring his path enough to finally squeeze through, stopping long enough to close the entrance and push the couch back into place behind him. It wouldn't be good if Ben's men found tunnels like that.

Poe silently ran forward and peaked out into the empty hall. The fire he had seen from the streets was on the opposite side of the palace, near the garage. It was possible that everyone was over there trying to put it out. Ben, however, would be somewhere else if not out of the palace completely. But Finn and his team wouldn't have let that happen, right? The explosion happened for a reason, it couldn't have been an accident that resulted in that much damage. The palace was built to withstand things like that.

He crossed the hall and entered the first King's Road he came across. No one would be expecting someone to come along from this side of the palace, so he ran at full tilt to get to the other end, his ribs screaming in protest. In fact- “Oh shit-” Poe gasped and managed to catch the wall before he fell. His head wasn't doing any favors right now either. Running wasn't the best plan for several reasons, but he had to- Poe pushed off of the wall, moving along at a slower pace than before. His body couldn't take anything worse. Pure adrenaline was the only thing keeping him upright.

In an instant, without any sign or warning, he suddenly felt like he was in the air again with Snap screaming at him through the channel before bursting in a flash of fire- Poe fell to his knees. What the hell was he thinking? What was he _doing?_ Running into the palace wounded like this? Leading his friends straight into enemy territory? Bringing a war to his city? What the fuck was he _doing?_

Gulping down breaths of air, trying to at least keep that steady, Poe opened his eyes and looked forward with the hope of rising. But all he could see was his home thrown into darkness, beaten and broken, bullet holes in the walls around him, solid marble and gold pillars cracked and tarnished, splintered wood and shredded paintings. His home, broken but still standing. “Get up,” his voice rasped to nothing. He _did_ lead the fight here – he and Ben – but he could still kick it out and win. He could still turn it around and save them. He could still find Finn and- “Get up,” he said again, swallowing hard this time and rising up to unsteady legs.

It took a second to clear his head, shut out all of the doubts in order to get the job done, before he kept moving.

* * *

It didn't take long to realize that the sprinkler system was still working just fine. No alarms were going off in the palace as far as he could hear, but he was already drenched to the bone before even so much as coming across the smell of smoke. After that was the heat and-

Poe pushed open a sliding door from the hidden passages, gun long since drawn in front of him, only to come upon a scene of ruin. He had emerged into a hallway that was completely unrecognizable by the black scorch marks and shattered doors. The sprinklers also stopped working at this point, too damaged by whatever blast had caused this, being replaced by great roaring flames licking up the walls. It had come from the kitchen, he realized. The gas stoves caused the majority of this. It had to.

For the first time since he entered the palace, Poe unthinkingly started running to the worse of the damage, the fire that had still been untouched by anything to put it out. Not that he was able to or even intended to. Curiosity was clawing at him to find Ben's dead body.

He tried to make his way to the kitchen, but there really wasn't any kitchen left. The walls separating it from the hallway had vanished, and Poe couldn't even tell if they were still standing or not. All he could see was the fire. If Ben was in there – if _anyone_ had been in there – he couldn't find them now.

Then he heard a laugh.

Poe turned quickly, too quickly according to the feeling of his side ripping and tearing, but he steadied his weapon all the same.

“If I could reach my gun, you'd already be dead,” Phasma told him with a pained grimace, spitting blood at his feet. Now that he had noticed her – How had he missed her? – he found a few other bodies at his feet, mangled and burned and stinking and- How had he missed all of this? Phasma herself was laying against the floor, nearly pressed against the wall, with useless arms at her sides and torso stained with red. “How did I know you'd show up here, you fucking idiot? That's your problem. _Brash._ It was your mother's problem, too. We don't need someone like you on the throne.”

“Don't act like you knew my mother.” He pulled the bandanna down around his neck. And why the hell was he indulging her in conversation? “Where is he?”

“Which one?” she asked hoarsely, pushing against a shoulder and wincing to lean up just a little. “You mean the Prince, your double, or that fucking guard of yours?”

Ben, he wanted to say. Where the hell is Ben? “What do you mean?”

“We knew you were here,” she told him, pushing herself forward and dissolving into a fit of coughs. Poe stepped back towards the fire, away from her and the blood she spat up. His hands shook, gripping the gun tighter and willing his mind to be quiet, just be quiet- Phasma looked back up, eyes dark and reflecting the light of the flames behind him. “Two of your soldiers jumped us. One of them looked like you – we thought _was_ you – and we pursued them. Turned out it was just some asshole with your same bloody hair, but the other one- They're saying that was your bodyguard.”

“Who's they?”

“The man with you at the televised funeral. The one that saved you from Hux' execution. He's the man, right?” She coughed again, but her words were sure and steady, like this was a calm conversation to have. “The other one-” Iolo? “They caught him after your guard blew a hole in the fucking palace. Wasn't you. Of course.”

Finn.

He turned back to the flames licking over the ceiling, everything behind them completely invisible pass the carnage, the fire having spread along that entire side of the palace walls. Finn did that?

“Thought he was you,” Phasma continued on, gaining his attention when she began to laugh again. “Hunted him down, closed him in. Self-sacrificing asshole killed my entire squadron.” It was all he could do to blink at her, to _try_ and process this. Finn had been trapped inside of the kitchens. Finn caused the fire. She was laughing again. “You look so shocked! Oh, I hope you were close to him. He died for you after all.” Just as quickly, her laughs turned into coughs again.

“He's not dead.” He wouldn't do that. Not so willingly. Not on purpose. Not like that. He wouldn't leave. He promised that he would never leave.

She spat again and smiled. “He's dead, boy. Like your mother and father. Like your city, your people. This is what the future looks like if you manage to claw your way into a throne that's not yours... At the very least, I hope he found that you were worth his life.”

_And he rises. I was actually coming to see if you were still breathing... An hour, maybe more. Not that long really. To be totally honest, I was wondering if you wanted breakfast... I'd love to. Let's eat after, okay?... I'm sorry. I lost my mother, too. It's all right. I'm just saying-... Palace or not, it's all the same. I get it. And I meant it._

The gun clicked twice in his hands when he came back to himself. Poe had moved, now standing over Phasma's body with an empty clip in his gun, shaking and choking on what little air there was.

His mind was racing, going too fast to keep up with the moment. All that existed were the dead bodies and overbearing heat of the fire at his back, vision narrowed in to the communications link in her bloodied ear and not the- the blood- the-

They knew he was here. They knew exactly where he was. Poe paced back, the world turning into reds and blacks again from the fire's light, swimming around his vision and making him drown in it. He should leave. He should... do something. He wasn't armed now. He wasn't-

Poe started walking, feeling his shirt clinging against him from sweat or blood or both, barely limping through the halls, managing to get just pass the last door of the kitchens before realizing he had moved at all. Was he about to pass out? Was it the smoke or himself? Fire was dancing over the charred walls around him, a pristine doorway in front of him that lead to another beautiful hall, burning up like the rest of it.

For a glimpse, everything looked like how it was meant to, untouched and polished and gleaming, riding on his mother's hip with a handful of her hair as she pointed out every detail of the palace walls around him. “And up there,” she said with a smile, pointing to the carved stone mural while it cracked from the heat of the fire, “are the Nine Muses. The Greeks said that they were the goddesses of inspiration and creativity. I like them, personally. I like how different they are. And they're kind of cute, huh?”

He fell again to his knees, the lifeless eyes of Erato and Melpomene at the center staring back at him accusingly, like the guardsmen who carried the caskets away.

This was his fault. It occurred to him as one of the heavy doors collapsed on itself, not even bringing a jolt of surprise from him. This wasn't Luke. When he had been in power, there were attacks on his life, but nothing on this scale except for the war. While he reigned, his people were safe. This wasn't even Ben. Ben was the outsider, the terrorist, the one who was actually fucking right about his claim. _He_ wasn't responsible for these people. _He_ wasn't left in charge of keeping everything together. And now the palace, a structure of power that had stood for years during the days of the Empire, was crumbling around him as soon as he had gotten even a shred of control and responsibility. Why would anyone want him to be King if this was what would lay behind him? Everyone around him dying. Finn-... Finn.

His body shuddered, trembled, and he could feel himself giving up, giving in, as was human to do. Everything ached, and everyone around him was dead. They died so he could get this far, but what's the point of if they were all gone? What was the point anymore?

A figure- His eyes were drawn away from the ornate doorway to a figure walking towards him right in front of his line of sight. “Finn...” His vision was blurred. He could hardly see. Even now, the idea of what stopped on the other side of the door wasn't enough to rise him to his feet.

“ _You...”_

Poe blinked several times, taking in the figures height and hair and- Ben. It was Ben standing before him, face contorted in anger, practically growling, but no visible gun. Just- Just a sword, some decoration he must have picked off of the walls in his hurry to get there but still long and sharp as he pointed it at him like his own existence was an offense. _“You!”_

He breathed in the smoke, just staring at Ben in the harsh light, not having seen him in years and trying to wrap his mind around the thought of here and now. Of the present. Of Ben standing in front of him, surrounded by fire, with a sword gripped in his hand. The other man, however, looked at him with nothing but anger and began to approach. “Just stay there, bastard, while I cut off your head. You have no _idea what you've done! What you're doing! This is supposed to be MINE!”_

The thought of staying there, of letting Ben approach and kill him, wasn't even just a fleeting thought. He regretted not letting them do the same during the siege, knowing now how many lives it could have potentially sparred. But all he could think about was Ben's words and how much bullshit they held. “You killed your own father,” he muttered, hardly loud enough to be heard.

But did hear and screamed in his hate, taking a running start.

Poe pushed back and leapt to his feet, Ben's blade swinging inches away from his chest. He kept dancing back, narrowly dodging every angry thrust of the sword, completely on automatic and momentarily thankful for the distraction more than anything else at the moment.

“ _Die, you fucking basta-!”_

Poe ducked beneath the next swing and ran forward, tackling Ben by the waist in a rush of furious adrenaline. Yes, he was owed the throne, but all of this – all of _this_ – was pointless and had been since they were children. Ben put him in this position as much as Luke had. He caused all of these people to die as much as Poe had.

Ben slashed at his back, and it hurt but showed just how horribly the other had been trained with a sword, if at all. Poe screamed and released his hold, but the cut wasn't that deep or hurt any worse than the hole in his side. Ben took the feint anyway, and was unprepared for Poe's fist to uppercut his jaw. He hit him again in the chest, another in the face, stumbling the other back. He grabbed Ben's sword arm, twisting beneath it in one smooth motion and taking the hilt right out of his hand.

In a rage, Ben ran forward, and it was nothing to put the sword in his way, driving it between his ribs and out through his back. The shock on his face was evident, the pain not yet reaching him, though the sight was enough to draw him to a stand still. For a moment, Poe really looked at him. Looked at how tired and filthy he was, ash marks trailing across his too young face, hate and conviction replaced with fear in his eyes. Just a stupid, stupid kid.

Poe gripped the sword tighter, screaming out all of his rage and fury, pushing forward to force Ben back, digging the sword deeper through him. After three steps, he grabbed the other by the chest and pulled the sword free, Ben falling at his feet.

He heard the cracks, the loud groans of wood and stone, but didn't care. It was over now. He raised the sword above his head for the killing blow, but was pulled away by the shoulders as the walls and roof caved where he once stood, bringing a gust of fire in all directions from the collapse.

“ _No!”_ He fought against them, finally yanking himself free, but it was already too late. Ben was on the other side of the wall placed between them, and he couldn't reach or even see him now, though it was doubtful he could have survived that.

Poe twisted around, bringing the sword to his captor's neck, but Luke stayed still and didn't flinch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. That took a while. Between school and work and both of my parents getting sick at once, I've been more stressed than busy. Then the worst of the Star Wars fandom threatens to have me just leave the franchise behind completely, but I still wanted to continue this for a friend. I was unsure about posting it for a long while (I just wasn't going to, if I'm being honest), but all of that nonsense was on tumblr and you guys have been nothing but good to me. I mean I know it's all the same people for the most part, but I have faith that the jackasses aren't reading this. If you are, I hate you. But I digress.
> 
> The point is, I hope you do enjoy it. If you don't, that's great, too. I don't care. I'm sick of fandom drama. I post this for those few who do like this fic. (I looked back and read some of your heartfelt comments that I'm eternally grateful over.) You guys are worth wading through the hate for. On another topic, do you ever wish you could punch someone through a wi-fi connection?
> 
> Again, I digress. I hope you guys liked this chapter! I don't find that it was my best work, and I certainly wanted some parts in here to be better than what they are, but it was a hard thing to write in the first place, so I hope you like the ridiculously long but finished product. I pray more will come soon.


	26. Chapter 26

Poe couldn't breathe. The ash, the smoke, the heat- It was the adrenaline pumping through his veins making him tremble in victory, fear, loss- He couldn't breathe.

Stumbling back unknowingly towards the fire, Poe kept his sword held fast in front of him, trying to come to terms with what he was seeing. Take away the years – the wrinkles and lines and gray in his beard – and the resemblance was completely remarkable. This was Luke that stood before him, the man that took the Empire straight from his own father's hands and gave it back to the people, the man that cared deeply for Kes and Shara, the man that abandoned his country and thrust all of his responsibilities onto the shoulders of children, the only man that was truly the King. And Poe still held his sword to him defensively, gripping it so hard to make the shaking stop that it was biting through his palms, unsure if he should drop to his knees in respect or take Luke's head off. For now, he could only stare with wide eyes, and Luke looked back to him with a serious glare.

“Poe!” He barely managed to tear his eyes away to spy someone running towards them from over Luke's shoulder. Rey stopped beside the elder man, trying to catch her breath, but looking frightened all the same. “Poe, Christ! What are you _doing_ here? We were tracking Ben down! You- You look like hell! You're _bleeding!”_

Finn, he would have liked to say. He had come to look for Finn and found- He found- But Poe could hardly reply, his gaze going back to Skywalker, sword still held ready in front of him.

Rey seemed to notice his stance, backing away half a step and wanting to get out a question, but Luke beat her to it. “Your Prince already found Ben,” he answered, turning his head to face her. “You're one his guards, Rey. He has to leave before the whole place comes down.”

“I'm not leaving.” Poe found his voice, once again commanding both of their undivided attentions. Behind him, the fire still raged in loud roars, practically cooking his back, the entire hallway lit like embers. It was going to come down, and he couldn't stop it. The whole world was crumbling around him, and his vision threatened to swim again, only just managing to focus on Rey's shock and Luke's annoyance. “I'm not leaving,” he said again a little louder, gripping the sword to a better stance, and glaring Luke down as if he were actually beneath him. He barred his teeth, prepared to fight if need be. “I'm not like you. I'm not leaving them! I'm not abandoning them! I'm not your goddamn figure head! I'm not your fucking puppet! I'm _their_ Prince, and I'll be _their_ King, and I'm _not leaving!”_

Rey backed off, stunned into silence for a moment. Luke, although he did remain quiet for a moment, seemed practically unchanged by the accusation. “You've killed my nephew. What else do you plan to do here?”

“I'm going to find Finn,” he answered automatically, not considering or caring that Luke had no idea who he was talking about.

But poor Rey looked like she was about to have a stroke. “ _Finn!?_ Finn's here, _too!_ What were you two idiots thinking?”

He didn't bother answering because, at the moment, he really didn't know anymore. Again, Luke powered through and basically ignored her outburst. “It's noble of you to stay, but you've done what you've come to do – what you've asked _me_ to come here and do. You're the last remaining heir. You can't put yourself in danger like this.”

“I'm not your _heir,”_ Poe hissed, “This is _my_ kingdom. Not yours. Don't act like you can tell me-”

“You've called for my help and now you speak to me like this?” Luke stepped forward, daring to put himself a mere inch from the tip of the sword. “We flushed him out of his bunker for you. The least you can do is heed my advice as a thank you.”

“ _Thank you,”_ he growled, “but no. I'm not done yet.”

Luke seemed to take him in for a moment, studying him, picking him apart until he felt naked under his eye, and eventually turned to Rey again. “His safety is your primary mission. Get him out of here.”

“I'm _not-!”_

“It's not up to you,” Skywalker said evenly to him and turned on his heel, walking back towards the inferno of what used to be the hall leading to the kitchens.

Poe lowered the sword slightly in surprise, not expecting their conversation to end so easily or abruptly. And for some ridiculous reason, he had the thought in his head that he would never see Luke again. “Wait,” he chocked out, but Skywalker didn't slow his stride. Poe lowered the sword to his side, stepping forward. _“Luke!”_

At that, finally, the elder stopped and turned back around to face him, features glowing and flickering in the light of the flames surrounding them. He stood unarmed but steady and sure, dressed like he had been ready for war the entire time he had been gone. And he just stood there, waiting for Poe to continue.

Unfortunately, Poe had no words that would come to him in the moment. He wanted answers, _real_ answers, not the shit Leia always fed him. He wanted to know why Luke left his father to die, why he never returned to a country that needed him, why he put all of his problems on an infant that was never supposed to be in this family to begin with. He wanted to tell Luke that he blamed him for his mother's death, and his fathers, and Han's. He blamed him for Finn getting hurt, going missing. He blamed him for ruining his life and his country and everything he had ever truly wanted for himself. He wanted to tell him that he hated him. That Poe just... hated him so much, and how badly it hurt but he couldn't stop feeling that way. That he wanted it to _stop_ but couldn't. He wanted help. He wanted him to stay. Because he hated him. Because he needed him. Because they all needed him, and he hated it. He hated himself.

But the words chocked in his throat with the fire.

Luke turned away, striding through the smoke and out of sight.

Before long, a hand brushed against his arm. “Poe,” Rey spoke softly, not unlike when they had left Finn behind the first time, “This side of the palace is lost. If we stay, we'll die.”

But Finn was there. He couldn't leave him. He wasn't going to leave without him. Not again. But he caused the explosion, and he was at the epicenter, and- Poe swallowed thickly. “Luke's not leaving. He's staying for something, and it's not Ben. There's something else.”

“I know,” she answered, making him finally whip his head around to her, despite the rush of the world continuing to move with the action. Rey at least looked apologetic for a moment before continuing. “He thinks Ben was working with sympathizers of the Old Empire, and he figured that some were here in the palace before the attack. He's probably looking for traces of-”

_Traces?_ “If he thinks relics of the Empire are here, it's not a what. It's a who.”

“They would have left by now.”

“Unless they thought they were winning.” Ben had been cut down, but Poe saw more than enough crashed fighter jets on his trek to the palace to believe they were at more than a disadvantage. The explosion might have rocked that particular corner of the palace, but the rest was still standing. “They're here,” he said, walking with more assurance than his body truly felt at the moment despite the slight limp. He had killed his childhood friend. He had watched his closest friend get burned out of the sky. He had lost something that could have been a truly beautiful future. “They're here, and I'm going to kill them.”

“You don't know that,” Rey coughed in the smoke, running to catch up with his stride. “It was only a guess. We don't know anything for sure.”

Finally, he stopped and turned to her. “Then I'm going to find _out!_ ” Yelling was never really something Poe was kin to do but- “This is my city, my country, my home- I'm their King, and I'm going to save them, all right? You can either come with me or get out of my damn way!”

“What are you-” Rey took deep gulps of air, trying to search for something in his eyes, though her own fear of the situation wanted to shine through. “I thought you were here for Finn.”

“Plans changed.” He didn't want to look for Finn anymore. He didn't want to think about him. “What are you going to do, Rey?”

She seemed to think on it for a moment, glancing him up and down, trying to find an excuse. “You're hurt. There's too much bl-”

“I'm fine.”

“... You're unarmed.”

“No, I'm not.” He hefted the sword, gripping it tight, as if threatening her.

She gulped. “And Finn-”

“Don't worry about _Finn_ ,” he growled. “Are you with me or not?”

For a moment, Rey almost seemed unsteady on her feet, blinking too much and looking at the wound in his side again. “I'm with you, your Highness.”

He continued his walk without looking back, turning down the first door he came to that led away from the kitchen's inferno. Even down blackened, scorched halls with the only light being the dying embers they skipped across, Poe still felt like he was burning alive.

* * *

It hardly took ten minutes before Poe realized that he had no idea what the hell he was doing. His head was swimming, his concussion only getting worse once leaving the fire and getting drenched again by the sprinklers, even colors were muted to his vision now. It occurred to him that Rey only agreed to follow so that she could get him out when the opportunity better presented itself.

But he was still adamant about staying. No matter what his fucked up head was trying to make him believe, he _knew_ that he had to stay and see this war through.

At first he considered following Skywalker in a roundabout sort of way, but Luke had vanished with hardly a trace before Poe could second guess the idea. He didn't want to follow him around anyway. So the next thing he decided on, without consulting Rey about it, was to go around the caved in area of the palace to find Ben's body. Unfortunately, there was more torn down with the collapse than he had realized, and it took a lot of maneuvering to go out of the way of it.

With every step, he thought of Finn. His very soul was crying out, trying to convince him to turn back and find him, at least look properly through the blaze. Finn would do the same for him. But he couldn't. He was weak. He couldn't face the truth. It was becoming easier and easier, with every stab of pain and every blurred edge to the world around him, to not think so hard about _Finn_. About Finn's hands, and his eyes, and his voice.

This was the third time he had forgotten why he was stumbling around the crumbling palace and clutching a sword. Luke. The Empire. Traitors. Stubborn bastards who wanted a kingdom back that their fathers had lost decades ago. Sympathizers still existed, of course, but Poe never dared to believe that they were this strong and this many. It made sense. With Ben's help, all of it made a sick kind of sense.

Finn would know what to do.

“Poe, if you're hurting this badly-"

“I'm not hurting,” he grumbled, clenching his teeth against the pain from his side, rubbing at his face to get rid of any sweat or tears. He had to keep going. He didn't know what for at the moment, but he had to continue.

“Poe,” Rey sighed beside him before reaching out a hand to his arm and finally stopping their pace. “Listen, I don't know what you mean to accomplish, but you're in no condition to be in here right now.”

“It's no better outside,” he argued, which was true enough even though he avoided her gaze. “I'm just not done in here. I can't leave. I'm not like Luke.”

“No, you're _not_ ,” she stressed, though it did nothing to make him look to her. Rey swallowed and tried again. “What are you really here for? Are you really looking for someone to be associated with the Empire?”

Poe shook his head, the world twirling with it. “I don't know. I just can't-”

“What happened to Finn?”

His body shook, a chill going down his spine that felt like ice, but Poe just stared at the ground and pretended he hadn't reacted at all. Rey stayed quiet for a moment, still expecting an answer for a small space of silence, until finally gripping his arm a little harder. “How about we go to the bunker?” Poe shook his head, finding the very idea of him hiding like a coward to be horrid. Still, Rey didn't let it go. “We can just make our way there, then. Get us on some sort of direct path instead of wandering around like this.”

If there were stragglers after Luke cleared it out, Poe reasoned, then they would still more than likely be near the bunker. It was some sort of plan at least. “Okay,” he agreed, voice much more hoarse than he remembered it being a moment ago.

Rey's voice, however, sounded more than relieved. “Okay,” she patted his arm and set off in a new direction. “This is the quickest way. Come on.”

With very little conviction, he turned and followed her path to the north, trying to remind himself over and over that he was doing this to hunt down the people who threatened his country, that he wasn't running away to hide until everyone was dead. What would Finn have done?

_You bastard! You promised me!_ Poe shook his head to free the memory, only really managing to make the fog that much worse. _Get him out of here!_ He hissed in a sharp breath, following Rey and trying desperately not to fall again. Not in front of her, not now.

He watched blearily, the sword hilt gripped in his right hand despite how heavy it was, as Rey pushed open two large wooden doors. _You know her. Who is she?_ It was the quickest way to get the bunker, but Poe truly didn't want to step foot in that room. _I'm not the Prince. Luke's not my father. I don't care what you are, I'm not leaving._

Rey froze to a stand still in front of him, and Poe somehow managed to focus his eye sight on what they'd walked in to. Two people stood by the thrones, both of the strange figures turning their attention to the newcomers. Both were tall and unfamiliar, dressed awkwardly like they had come through a portal or a cult. The one on the left had pale skin, no hair, and a serious face, body lean and muscular, still in his prime. He wore ornate armor with black robes beneath, two flintlock pistols at his sides, barely leaning on a staff with decorative blades at both ends. The second stranger on the right was only cloaked in a dark robe that hid any features from view.

The second man twisted away at the sight of them and nearly bolted through the curtain overhanging the hidden room behind the thrones. The first, however, turned to face them full on, the staff – glaive, whatever it was – balancing in his hand.

For a moment, they all stared at one another, even though Poe knew exactly what was going on here. They found what he had been looking for, the one thing they really didn't want to find.

Almost in slow motion – or maybe that was Poe's wounds still talking – the man took out a gun and fired at them. The resounding bass from the old weapon echoed across the throne rooms polished floors even after Poe and Rey both jumped out of the way to opposite ends. As soon as he had manged to look up, though, the man had advanced on them and was already halfway across the room, pointing his gun at Rey for a second shot.

He fired- A scream-

Poe turned, trying like hell to make his vision work properly for a few seconds. The bullet only seemed to graze her arm, as she raised her own pistol to fire back. As quick as she could fire, quicker than her bullets, the man jumped and corkscrewed in midair, coming down with his blade first.

For a second, Poe only saw blood, the pistol practically getting thrown out of her hand and on the far side of the room. _“Rey!”_ and he was already running before the rest of his consciousness could catch up to the situation.

Her eyes were wide in shock, stumbling back blindly, but the spear-armed man spared Poe a glance before she came back to herself and ran forward. It was unclear what her intention was while he was minorly distracted, but he reacted all the same, staff twirling around his fingers before bring it down at her side and pushing her away.

In the same motion, without dropping any momentum, the man spun around and attacked Poe, who only just managed to parry the blow with his sword on complete instinct alone. The sound of steel on steel made the world stop for a moment, really only having enough time to take in the uninjured and much taller man in front of him, noticing his speed and training and accuracy and total lack of regard for either of them in his dark eyes.

Just as soon as the moment began, it was over, the weight lifting from his defensive stance, time coming back into focus when the man tried to slash for his legs with the staff's opposing end. Poe gave a jump, backing off as the other approached, glaive like a striking snake in his hand trying to bring it to Poe's left side, then his right, the sword blocking the blows as they came. Still, even he could realize in the heat of the moment that he was being pushed back.

Attack or lose.

Poe rushed forward hard, dodging the blow that threatened to cut through his neck, and going into the best offensive stance he could manage in the moment. The other man, hardly worried with the new development, merely parried his blows while twirling the staff with a quick precision. Before Poe could even realize it, the man had caught his sword during one of these twirls and just as smoothly took the hilt right out of his grip from the sheer momentum alone. The man grabbed the blade of his sword and turned, tossing it across the room and pinning Rey to the wall by her arm, who looked to be trying to reach the fallen pistol near the thrones.

She screamed out again, but Poe couldn't think about it right now, as the man was already back on him. He dodged two- three attacks from the glaive successfully, until the man feinted him by taking the staff in his right hand and punching him in the stomach with the other. Pain seared through him like fire, feeling the warm flow of blood from the open wound before being hit across the face and tossed back to the hard, cold floor.

The world drained away for a moment, but Poe forced himself to come back and threw his head up to look at the attacker. Before he could react by running or screaming or anything, the man already had his blade poised.

Then a shot rang out and echoed across the marble tiles, a small, red dot suddenly appearing beneath the man's right eye. He stumbled, swaying in place despite staring Poe down, before two more shots sounded, both going home clean through his forehead. His knees buckled, and he fell like a doll, staff clattering to the ground.

Poe shrunk away from the body and looked up for Rey, instead finding her gripping the new wound in her arm in the same place she had been before. He turned to face the thrones and- and could swear that he had died and none of this was real.

Finn clutched his ribs, missing pieces of his clothes and armor where burned skin peaked through, breathing hard. Poe was on his feet, the world fuzzy and dull except for Finn, and was already running by the time the other dropped the gun and fell to his knees.

“ _Finn!”_ Poe slid to him, opening his arms just in time to catch his fall. He repositioned himself, trying to make his hold as comfortable as possible. “God, Finn.” Poe's breath caught in his chest when those dark eyes looked up at him, and all he could do for his love was pat his hair, stroke his face, reassure them both that they were together again, even if he found that it was suddenly very hard to stop crying. _“God-”_

“Thought you were dead,” Finn answered weakly in his arms.

Poe could only give a sad laugh though his tears and pain and sobs. “Please. Please, don't do that. I'm sorry, Finn. I'm sorry.” He tried to take everything in. The burned arm and shoulder, the blood on his stomach and ribs, the shuddering and tension in his muscles.

“I'm okay,” Finn answered, weakly grabbing at his hand and sparing a glance to Rey as she approached them both. “I'm all right, Poe. I'm okay.”

He couldn't even answer him, barely even able to see the brown of his eyes anymore. Poe just cried, all of his energy draining away through his wounds, and pressed his forehead to Finn's.

The large doors loudly pushed open, and before Poe even looked over, Rey had already picked up the gun with her good arm and aimed it at the newcomers. Though, after a second of recognition, Poe made out the same uniform that Finn was wearing on the team that entered with Iolo Arana practically smeared with blood leading the pack. The group lowered their weapons immediately upon seeing them, and Iolo turned to one of the troops. “Get some medics, quick. Highest priority.” They were running off before he could finish speaking. He turned back to them, explaining, “We're sweeping the palace for survivors, your Highness.”

It was over? Did that mean it was over? They had won? Poe couldn't really make out the meaning other than the fact that he had missed a lot and really didn't care anymore. They were getting medics for Finn, and suddenly all of the tension left Poe. He rested his head back against Finn's, feeling a hand tangle into his hair before shutting his eyes and blocking out everything except for the sound of his love's breathing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my gosh okay, we have a lot to discuss here and I have a few announcements. 
> 
> First, FINN.
> 
> Second, yes, that was Darth Maul.
> 
> Third, while I _extremely_ appreciate all of the well wishes I've been getting here and on tumblr (seriously, you guys are amazing), I think we had some miscommunication at some point, and I apologize for not explaining better. I wasn't getting hate from the tfa fandom – except for one homophobe – and I certainly wasn't getting hate for this fic – except for said homophobe. My friend was getting a ton of hate, and I was so pissed off with the fandom that I didn't want any part of it anymore. I decided to continue posting, as you obviously see here, so that section of the drama is over. Even so, I'm so overwhelmed by the reaction from you guys. Like holy shit. I couldn't decide whether to applaud you or tell you to chill out. It was LITERALLY overwhelming. However, I'm very appreciative that I have so many amazing readers out there who truly love this fic like it's the best thing since sliced bread and to that I give a well rounded THANK YOU to everyone reading this. Wow.
> 
> And lastly, with the last chapter getting such a response, I've resolved something I've been going back and forth about. Bad news and good news. Bad news, this fic is going to be over in about 3-4 chapters. Good news, I'm going to make a sequel. I've purposely written this chapter and the last one to set us up for it, so it's definitely happening.
> 
> I'm sorry that this was a long note for the ending, but I had a lot to tell you guys. Thank you so much again for showing me how loved I am over here. You guys are amazing readers. I'm going to have to let you know whenever I finish and publish my damn novel. Either way, thank you again. I hope you like how this story ends and stick with us for part two. ♥


	27. Chapter 27

It wasn't the first time Finn woke up to dull pain and a hazy memory. His eyes slowly opened to yet another dimly lit room, the few lights from a distance making him wince just a little. He vaguely, very vaguely, remembered Iolo's face and a group of medics. He remembered the sound of Poe's voice putting up a protest that they tried to tend to his wounds first and not Finn or Rey. The last time he was awake and aware, they were all alive. Somehow, he was pretty sure that was still the case.

He was in a soft bed, covered in sheets that probably had a six digit thread count with a intricately designed comforter placed over that. His fucking pillow felt like a damn cloud. Finn didn't have to look at his surroundings, at the antique clock on the marble mantel or the painting of some guy that died hundreds of years ago that only third graders knew the name of, to realize that he was in the palace. _Safely_ in the palace. He highly doubted the First Order was so pleasant to their prisoners.

“Finn.” Rey's happy sigh met him before he could even find her in the room. When he did spot her, she was already halfway between the door and the bed. “How do you feel?” she asked with a very happy and very tired smile. Maybe he was the only one that slept.

“Alive,” was the most he wanted to get into that right now. “What about you? Luke and your shoulder-” Her arm was in a sling now, but he remembered her gripping a bloody wound near her shoulder back in the throne room.

Rey shook her head, walking around the bed to take a seat that had been pulled towards him already. “No bones broken, miraculously. Can't say the same for the torn tendons and muscles. They're wanting me in physical therapy. I can't imagine what they're going to want with you.”

“I'll be all right,” he said in a half thought, trying to raise himself up to sit. He quickly discovered that not only did it sting like hell to move, but his left arm was covered in a thick bandage from wrist to collar bone. Rey put an arm out to keep him still, but he waved her away and managed to lean against the headboard with some effort. He needed to start getting his body to move anyway. “What about Luke Skywalker?”

She adjusted herself in place, unhappy that he moved around but satisfied that he had finally stopped. “I did find him. Brought him here and everything. We found Poe together, but he broke off on his own after that. I've-... He's not here.”

“Not here?” The palace was big. The city was bigger. She could have lost him, but that didn't mean-

“While you were asleep,” she continued, “the city was declared officially taken back. The Queen's even come home. I told her what happened. I'm sorry, Finn. Luke's long gone.”

He furrowed his brow. “Why would he leave?”

Rey shook her head again and looked to the floor.

Taking a deep breath and swallowing all of the confusion that came with this ridiculous monarchy, Finn finally asked the question he purposely kept for last before she could suggest bringing in a medic or something. “Where's Poe?”

“They said he was okay,” she started with, and he was kind of grateful for the reassurance. “Horrible concussion, and he had been impaled in a crash. Someone had stitched it up in the field, but he managed to pull every one of the damn things out and make it worse. I should have dragged him out-” Rey stopped, sighed, and continued. “He's gone to his room to rest. Most of his wing had gone untouched other than what we suspect was looting and raiding while the First Order had control. But anyway, he looked dead on his feet.”

Finn nodded and considered what she had said, looking down to the chair that had already been pulled close to his side of the bed. “He was here?”

“I didn't think anyone could make him leave,” she said with a fond smile. “But he did about three hours ago.”

Three hours. Finn chewed his bottom lip – cracked and tasting blood – glancing to a window. All he could see was the night sky. No horizon. No city lights. No smoke. “How long was I out?”

“About the whole day. Maybe... ten hours or so?” And Poe hadn't slept in that time. She continued on. “They said you had a few cracked ribs, but the worse thing is the burns on your arm and back, particularly your back. They stitched up that gash to your stomach, though, and your old bullet wounds held together.” She almost sounded proud of him.

He smiled back, wanting to ask how she was doing but worried about the amount of time he's already wasted. “How's the palace? And the city? The people?”

“Well,” Rey looked to her feet, trying to keep a little upbeat despite the sag in her shoulders, “they don't have any handle on a death toll yet, and everyone's without power right now. The palace generators were ruined, but they have a few rooms lit up. Poe requested this room for you, just in case.” He glanced up to the dim lights, and she continued. “About a third of the north side of the palace burned down. The city-... Well, the city's in tatters, honestly. I've heard some people are giving food, shelter, generators... Radios are working, though. Right now, they're more concerned with search and rescue.”

He blinked. “Search and rescue?”

“They're pulling people out of the rubble,” she sighed again, twisting in her chair to face out of the windows. “I don't know how they're managing in this dark, but they are. Leia sent a lot of the Guard to help.”

“They're taking volunteers?”

“They announce it on the radio every now and-” She stopped, turning to blink back at him. “You can't be serious. You aren't going out there.”

“I wouldn't be much help to them right now,” he smiled, leaning forward again. “Can you do something for me, Rey? And I'm sorry to ask you this.”

She frowned back to him in concern and disapproval at the moving again. “What is it?”

“Can you-?” His eyes had wandered without him, falling on the nightstand where an envelope sat with a note taped to it. “Can you tell the doctors and Leia that I don't want to be disturbed right now? Just give me about two hours or so.”

She stared at him, obviously unconvinced. “... Why?”

He really didn't want to tell her the truth. The day had been hell – she looked like a pretty kind of hell but still hell – and he didn't want to make her upset. “National secrets?”

Rey huffed, looking heavenward. “Oh, all right,” she grumbled while standing, “but I'm telling her you're awake, though. She'd be happy to hear it. And Poe's going to flip his lid when he realizes you woke without him.”

He smiled and gave a short laugh, the best laugh he could manage. “Thanks, Rey. I'm glad you're okay.”

With a smile, she patted his leg and made her way to the door. Whether she was truly none the wiser or not, he wasn't about to spell anything out to her. He would have let him go, too. Maybe. He would have wanted to.

It took some effort to pull himself up enough to dangle his feet over the bed. In fact, this entire expedition was going to be pretty fun, but Finn rose to his wobbly legs anyway, glancing around for clothes he already knew would be there.

This room wasn't a bedroom – looked as if it was never really intended to be – but it must have been close to the generators to explain why they placed him there. There was some medical equipment lined against the wall but nothing that seemed to have been used on him in the last several hours. In truth, he wasn't really sure how bad off he had been, but he was good now. Good enough for Poe to feel calm enough to walk out.

Or maybe he was putting their relationship on too high of a pedestal. He didn't know the shit that Poe had gone through during the fighting. Things could have more than easily changed between them. But something told Finn that they hadn't, that he shouldn't question his instincts when it came to how his Prince's mind worked.

So he dressed as quickly as his wounds would allow, pretty proud of himself when he managed to get done without giving in and requesting someone's help. They would only help sleeping meds down his throat and toss him back in bed. The clothes were at least his own – worn jeans and a comfortable shirt with thick socks – so there at least was a familiarity in that.

He paused in his movements, sparing a glance to the envelope on the nightstand. Though he looked at it upside down, the note was clearly in the Queen's swirly cursive that he had only seen from her signature on legal documents.

_The next time you ask me to do something like that is the day I punch you in the face. Rest. And get well._

He could practically hear her stressing him to _rest_ , as if she knew that Poe would be doing something stupid as soon as he could manage it. Finn took the note off and placed it on the table, then picked up the unmarked envelope and stuffed it in his back pocket, unsure of what to really do with it but there was no way he could leave it behind.

He ducked into the hidden passage beside the mantle, went back to their personal wing long enough to grab a pair of shoes, and headed for whatever remained of the garage.

* * *

Whether it was the situation, the environment, his injuries, or the heavy loss, Finn just felt very tired. Not in a sense that he could fall asleep and stay motionless for a year or four, but in the sense that he could probably curl into a ball away from anyone who had ever known him and maybe just not move for the rest of his life. Maybe he should have stayed long enough for a debriefing before sneaking out of the palace, but delaying was out of the question despite the lack of urgency in his movements.

It took a minor amount of talking to a few members of the Guard who were on a parameter duty around the palace. They didn't like that he decided to steal- _borrow_ a car. They didn't like that he was trying to leave without anyone's authorization. They certainly didn't like the fact that he refused to give an explanation for his actions. It ended up summing down to, “You know who I am. You know what I do here. I can promise that if you don't let me out right now, then you're not going to like what's going to happen when the sun comes back up.” They took it as a threat – of course, he should have thought of that before speaking, but he was just too damn tired to think his words through right now – but they relented simply because of who he was and what he had done for the city and that he was basically their superior officer now, letting him through with the promise to not report him for another hour. In return, he promised to be back before then.

It took about two minutes of switching between radio stations when he found out where the volunteer workers were getting processed at. Another fifteen minutes to actually get there. Sadly, it took a damn near twenty minutes to squeeze any information from the guy in charge of sending people out – some dude from the Department of Transportation named Plutt – before Finn realized what the hell was actually going on. His original description of a dark haired, dark eyed, tan skinned man matching his own height that had arrived roughly three hours ago would likely go over anyone's head in all of this confusion, but Finn had a funny feeling that wasn't the case here. “He commanded you not to tell anyone, didn't he?”

Plutt suddenly floundered, swaying in place between the racks of plastic coats and oxygen masks. He cleared his throat, swallowed, and responded like a model citizen, “I still don't know who you're talking about.”

Finn pinched the bridge of his nose, rubbing hard at his eyes until white spots swam over his vision, pushed his hand over his forehead. He was so tired. “I'm with the Guard,” he groaned, wiping his hand on his pants and looking back up to Plutt again. “I know he couldn't have looked good when he came to you. You have to understand, for his safety, I need to know where he is. I know he showed up alone.” But the man had been commanded by the Crown, so there was obviously little information he could give. Finn just hoped the people's love for the Prince outweighed their loyalty to his decisions... which was a pretty far reach, to be totally honest.

Plutt grumbled, groaned, folded his arms over his chest, grumbled again- “If anyone had come by like that, I would have sent them with the 65th Team. They'd be near the Cross about now.” The Cross being the train stations not too far away. Whether Plutt intended for him to be close by or not, Finn was grateful.

“Thank you.” He bowed his head, took a bottle of water from the ice chest near Plutt's feet, and continued on his search.

It took about ten long minutes to find the 65th. They weren't hard to find, seeing as how they were the only group nearby that was standing on top of what could have once been a building reduced to a pile of rocks. What made the search difficult was that Poe wasn't among them, until he realized what they were all standing around for and decided to calmly wait across the street. All of the men were obviously built and strong. Tall, hulking men with enough strength to move enough boulders without the need of a crane. Poe wasn't that built and he was short in stature to boot. Perfect for climbing into makeshift holes.

_Calmly_ waiting was the key phrase here.

Not too long after he planted himself, one of the men knelt down and grabbed onto a hand. There was talking while a few more approached and helped pull the sooty figure of their disguised Prince from the rubble. Finn had expected someone else to come with him – a person, a kid – but he only saw Poe shake his head, someone pat him on the shoulder in momentary comfort, and they all began to scramble their way down together.

He only realized that he had been noticed when someone spoke up. “Dammit. We already got sight seers.”

The obvious oldest one of the group, the one that looked to be in charge, looked up and met eyes with Finn. Before he could shoo him away with what would most likely be some colorful language, Poe raised his hand. “Wait, I know him.” As raspy and strained his Prince's voice was, Finn felt a smile growing across his face. “Just give me a second, let me talk to him.”

The leader of the pack looked a lot less like a man about to blow up and much more relieved. “Have him bring you somewhere to sleep, kid. You've been wincing since you got here.”

“I'm fine.”

The first one spoke up again, grabbing up bungee chords from the ground. “Your fine. He's fine. We're all fine. Take a damn break, man. Drink something for fuck's sake,” he continued grumbling even as he walked off, ignoring Poe's glares.

“A _break_ ,” the Prince said, turning back to the leader.

“Uh-huh.” The older man slapped him on the back and followed the first one.

“A _short_ break.”

“Sure, kid.”

Seeming to give up, Poe made his way across the street in the best stride he could manage. No matter what his attitude might be, whatever they even were anymore, Finn couldn't get the smile off of his face. The closer he got, the slower Poe became until he stopped about a foot in front of him on the sidewalk. Finn went ahead and closed the space until the distance was just a few inches.

His Prince didn't stop him when he reached out and tugged the mask down, revealing a little smile there, too. His hand went through the gray stained curls of Poe's hair, removing the hard hat and goggles, finally looking at his face. Bruised, tired, smiling, beautiful face that didn't seem to care if anyone saw him now or not. He only suddenly seemed nervous. “Hey.” The white of his teeth and pink of his mouth was a harsh contrast to the ash clinging to his skin, but it was still beautiful.

Finn bit his lip, emotion momentarily overwhelming him, completely forgetting that he should probably be scolding his Prince for doing this. He was just happy to see him standing, alive, breathing. He licked his lips, took a deep breath, ran his eyes over Poe one more time, then realized that he should probably reply. “Hey.”

Poe's eyes flickered over him, swaying in place a few times, but it wasn't because he was unbalanced. He was hesitating. There was so much going across his eyes and face at once... Eventually, he chuckled a little and looked down to their feet. “I'm filthy.”

Finn dropped the hard hat and embraced him in a tight hug, pulling him as close as he could, probably putting too much strain on both of their injuries. Poe didn't flinch away or make a sound, though. It took a second, but his Prince returned the hug even tighter than Finn had. He fumbled for a moment, removing his hands and reappearing with the gloves conspicuously missing, fingers digging into the back of Finn's neck.

He could feel the ash and soot and fiberglass rubbing onto his skin, practically zapping away any moisture left on him, but he couldn't pull away from how uncomfortable it felt, not with Poe's nose buried into his collar and shaking so subtly that he probably thought it wasn't noticeable.

After a long moment where Finn was at least mostly assured that they were here and this was real, Poe rubbed one hand up his back, then both back down to his ribs before pulling away. Finn somehow managed to peel himself off, too, and raised the forgotten bottle of water to Poe's face. “Drink. Please.”

Before he could finish the makeshift order, Poe had given a breathy sort of laugh and looked at the bottle near his lips before looking back to Finn again. He leaned in, ghosted their lips together for a brief moment, then pulled back and took the offered bottle.

His Prince took a swig, sloshed it in his mouth for a moment before spitting it out again. “Come home,” Finn asked, watching Poe take another small sip and swallowing this one.

He took another swig before actually speaking. “When did you wake up?”

Finn actually had the decency to think it over and shoot for a proper guess. “Maybe... forty-five minutes ago? An hour?”

Poe did that same laugh again, eyes looking to the ground, the bottle, anywhere else. “You came straight here.” Finn didn't answer. “I'm sorry I wasn't there when you woke up.”

_No, you're not._ “You knew I'd be okay. This is where you felt you were needed.” Because the world was going to shit around him and someone had the audacity to tell him to rest. “Poe.” It took a moment before the other looked back to him. “Come home.”

Poe licked his lips, spat out whatever he had caught on his tongue, and let out a breath. “Pulled a kid out about an hour and a half ago. Three or four. Said her mom was with her. Didn't find anyone else.”

Finn stepped forward, placing his hands on either side of Poe's neck. “The entire city is doing this,” he whispered just low enough for his Prince to hear. “The whole city with new volunteers coming every minute. Thousands of people are working on this one job. You're the only one that can do yours.” Poe dragged his eyes from the spot he was staring at on Finn's shirt to finally meet his gaze. “You're their Prince. They _need_ their Prince right now. They need you. They need you whole.”

Poe's mouth twisted into a cruel smile. “I'm not _whole-_ ”

Before he could continue the train of thought, Finn stepped closer, leaving no space between them as they breathed the same air. He intended the say something else, but so much raw emotion flicked across his Prince's eyes in the moment so he stopped short.

They looked at each other, Poe's eyes shining brighter, brimming with tears, and breathing that much harder for it. Eventually, a whimper escaped his throat when his eyes shut, tentatively pressing their foreheads together. “Finn... I-” He stopped again, and Finn could almost feel his mouth turning into a harsh sneer and the lines of his face bunching in frustration, like he wanted to say it and couldn't.

Finn pressed their lips together again, not letting up and practically forcing open Poe's lips. There was an inhale, a gasp, before the kiss suddenly became hard and desperate, Poe's hand pushing against the back of his skull like they could both turn everything that needed to be said into a physical touch. It felt like it was working. Their lips moved together, breathless, filled with something more than want, acting like they already knew every inch of each others mouths and bodies as if they had done this for years.

It was Poe who broke away first, the one that eased the kiss down into something slower before tilting his head low to remove their lips from one another. His forehead found Finn's shoulder, just staying still, letting the other run his fingers through the curls of his hair.

“Come home,” he whispered again. Poe nodded.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For once, this was actually meant to be longer. I think the next “half” of this chapter is going to take up a whole chapter of its own, though. I'll try to put it out soon since it all kind of goes together. But anyway.
> 
> Thank you guys for the continued support. I LOVE YOU SO MUCH AHH CHRIST and I'm sorry this chapter took a little while to get out. Thanks again!


	28. Chapter 28

Poe hadn't been exaggerating when he said he was filthy. Plaster seemed to be caked onto his skin at least an inch thick. While his body sorely protested the ridiculous decision to run away again, he didn't regret it. In fact, he wished he could have stayed longer. Being at the palace where everyone just wanted him to rest and heal was terrible, especially when all he was allowed to do was worry. Worry about Finn, worry about costs of repair, worry about the lives lost, worry about Jess, worry about the palace. At least putting himself to work had _felt_ right.

The First Order's army had lost long before Iolo found them in the throne room. Their people had performed a sweep over the palace and city, but Poe didn't realize that they had truly won until he saw Leia at the palace, too. They hadn't told him any updates prior to her appearance, and it was annoying but gratifying at the same time. With Leia overseeing everything at this point, it left Poe with nothing else to do except go over his own thoughts over and over again.

It was difficult to leave Finn's side after everything, but not as difficult as staying there was, just watching and waiting, knowing his people needed help outside of his safe walls. But maybe he really knew, deep down, that Finn would be the one to go out and find him, bring him home.

A more selfish side of him didn't want to think about what was going on with everyone else for just a couple of hours. The burden, the strain, the guilt, it hurt trying to hold it up for so long. So he made no sounds of protest when Finn held his hand and guided him through the dark tunnels of the palace and to his still ever pristine room. Didn't argue when Finn led him straight to the oversized bathroom, began to fill the tub with warm water, and started working on unbuttoning Poe's ruined button down shirt.

He was here to take care of him. It wasn't his job or his duty. He never swore to such a thing like this. He just was. Poe could practically feel the give and take. Finn took care of him and... he wanted to take care of Finn.

His love removed the shirt carefully, tossing it to the side and started working on the undershirt. He didn't ask if any of it was okay, and Poe certainly didn't put up a protest. The doctors told him explicitly to not get his bandages wet, but if Finn coaxed him into the water, he would go. If Finn asked him to drown, he would go, but he knew that wouldn't be asked whether he deserved it or not.

“I'm pretty sure you don't-” Finn's soft voice paused after removing the undershirt.

It was probably because Poe's hands were suddenly traveling over his still clothed chest. “Sure I don't, what?” he asked, pulling the hem of Finn's shirt up until he could see the bandaged stomach. When he wasn't getting any help with the clothing, he stopped. “You're going to seriously tell me you remember the last time you bathed?”

Finn finally let out a little laugh, a beautiful laugh, then finished taking the shirt off himself without argument or comment. “I was going to say,” he continued, tossing the shirt, “that I'm pretty sure you don't want me to help with your legs, too.”

His legs? Oh, his pants? Poe didn't care. There was a point in time when they would have flown across the room at Finn's request, and there was probably a point in time where Poe would've been too red and embarrassed to do anything except melt. For now, he just started on the belt. He caught a surprised look from Finn, but only gave a tired smile back while taking his pants off. He wasn't done kicking them to the pile of clothes they had made before Finn was removing his, too.

“Sit,” his love asked of him, gently putting his jeans to the side, too. The act was so gentle, in fact, that Poe caught sight of a paper- envelope peaking out of one of the pockets. He was distracted again when Finn sat on the side of the tub and pulled softly on his arm, willing him to do the same. So he complied and sat down next to him, not so much curious as just willing.

Finn turned the water off, twisting around for a clean wash cloth and shampoo. Not that Poe noticed. His eyes were gliding across his back, but the look couldn't linger before his love had turned back to face him again. “Hair first,” he told him, and Poe realized that... Finn was going to bathe him.

He blinked, but assented to the request, moving every which way Finn wanted him to be moved. Water pouring across his hair was suddenly extremely relieving now, and feeling someone's fingers tangle into his curls – scratching lightly, getting every last inch – was kind of intoxicating. He'd felt this sort of vulnerable before, but this was wildly different. The water rushed over him again, like he was actually being cleansed in every way, and he relished in the feeling of Finn's hands trying to get all of the soap out.

This was so strange, Poe thought, watching Finn handle the warm washcloth over his body, careful to avoid the bandages. He studied his love's face as his arm was raised, watching how the other was taking this task so seriously. Finn washed him down to the wrist, then took his hand in his and started gently scrubbing away at the palm. It was intimate. Sexual, but not really, not in the way one may think when bathing together crosses a mind. They should be _completely_ naked, he thought, not to move things in another direction but to make it more intimate and special. He didn't even try it, though, didn't want to bother what moment they already had. So he just let Finn clean his other arm and hand – even under the fingernails – then both of his legs and feet. It was a thing that should have been awkward, but really wasn't. It felt good, felt okay.

“Turn around,” Finn whispered, and Poe did so quickly and without question. He felt the warm cloth go over his back, ever careful to avoid the bandages, melting into the fingers digging into his tense muscles and practically dancing down his spine. If this never ended, he'd be okay with that.

But the cloth was removed, water sloshed next to him, and he looked over his shoulder. “Now you,” he requested before Finn could get a word in.

The look on his face was full of shock and awe then turned into hesitation. Poe could already hear all about how fine he was, how he didn't need anything, how he was great and okay and all that bull. But just as Finn's mouth opened, he shut it again and nodded.

He didn't bother or even want to question what changed his mind, but Poe turned back around to face him, taking the cloth from his hand. Finn had done such a good job on him that most of the water had turned a shade darker and the washcloth wasn't as pristine as before. He did manage to grab for a new one, but to make up for the rest-

Poe dragged the warm rag over the unmarred arm slowly, tracing the line of muscle with his fingertips, twisting over the bicep, leaving a shallow line of soap behind. Finn was beautiful. Even like this with half of his torso wrapped up, he was beautiful. He would always be beautiful. Poe wanted to trace the lines of muscle with his tongue, not his fingers. But he didn't draw himself towards the sudden urge, knowing this wasn't really the time and place. Instead he gently followed the edge of the wrappings around his arm, cleaning off specks of dried blood and iodine. He wanted to know what happened. He wanted to know everything. Somehow, he managed to keep his mouth shut through the whole process, busying himself with pampering and getting to know Finn's body.

“Back.” It felt like a command falling from his lips like that, but Poe pushed the thought away as he rinsed the cloth, watching Finn carefully turn around.

There wasn't much of his back exposed enough to get. It was all covered in a thick bandage running down his shoulder on the right side and across his lower back. There'd be scars. The whole thing would be scarred. Poe swallowed and steadied his hands enough to gently clean at what he could. And maybe his head was telling him that he shouldn't, but he crawled closer anyway, close enough to feel the heat coming from the other body. He wanted to apologize for Finn coming to get him, for Finn getting hurt, for Finn being there in the first place. He wanted to- And he shouldn't, but-

Poe's lips brushed against his neck, still thinking the act through even as it happened. But he kissed him again, a little more resolved, and snaked an arm around him. Finn held on to his hand, interlacing their fingers, and that was more than good enough.

Remembering his task, he brought the cloth higher over the exposed neck, watching Finn dip his head down to give him more room. So strange, so close, so nice. He didn't want to think about it too much, afraid he would ruin or taint the moment somehow.

“You know,” he smiled to himself, risking to break the silence if it meant his mind would stop racing, dragging his nails over the tight curls of Finn's hair, “you almost put me to sleep a second ago.”

Finn hummed, a vibration from deep within him that Poe felt in the arm he still had around his torso. “I think I did fall asleep.”

Poe huffed a laugh, smiling wider, and he felt the words dance on the tip of his tongue again. His jaw clamped up like it was something sour that he wanted to say. And maybe it was, maybe it could be, wanted to be. He thought it'd be easier to say now after everything they went through, after the possibility of never seeing each other again. But it wasn't. It was harder now. Because he could lose him. If he didn't _say it_ then the loss would be easier for either of them, because he was going to lose this. Too many people hated him, hated the Crown, hated Luke, and Finn was too deeply involved. Even if Poe ordered him exiled, it wouldn't save him now. They cared too much for each other, and he was going to lose this.

A hand dragged through his hair, another squeezing at his arm. He glanced away from the bandaged shoulder to see Finn's dark eyes, the other man now half turned to face him. There was a twitch of a smile there, and Finn leaned in to nuzzle against his neck for a second, cradling his head. “Stay here,” he whispered and squeezed his arm again before removing himself a little and beginning to drain the tub.

Where else would he go? Poe blinked, watching Finn stand up and grab a couple of towels. He draped the first one over Poe's head, rubbing it against his scalp and drying his hair. Poe let him, closing his eyes and just relaxing into the touch.

He enjoyed it for a minute, then stood with the other towel in hand and started on drying Finn's body, too. It was awkward, trying to do this to each other at the same time, but the good kind of awkward that elicited a giggle here and there from the two grown men. And to Poe's great relief, Finn didn't seem to be too worried about getting dressed either. Honestly, in their wounded state, it was a chore trying to pull a shirt on.

But when the towels joined the pile, and Finn started tugging him out of the bathroom, Poe glanced down and remembered the letter from earlier. “What's that?” he asked, toeing at it, not sure if he wanted to actually bend down to pick it up yet but not willing to leave it behind if it was important.

Finn glanced down, too, like he was remembering it existed in the first place. He carefully bent down and picked it up, but still just kind of looked at it like he was deciding to take or leave it. After a moment, he straightened up and pulled on Poe again. “The letter I had for Leia. It's not important now.”

The letter he- From before? From back at Lando's? Why did he still have it? “Why not?” Battle plans? A will? What if it was a will?

“You're thinking too much again,” Finn mumbled to him, pulling them close together. Poe realized with a jolt that they had long since left the bathroom and was standing in the middle of his own quarters now. Finn kissed him lightly on the chin. “It's just not anymore. Don't worry about it,” he told him gently, then continued tugging him along to the bed.

He watched him put the letter on the bedside table and lift the mountain of blankets for him. Poe eagerly obliged, putting the note out of his mind in favor of slipping into the sheets. He had a hand ready to reach out for Finn, but was happily surprised when the other laid down to face him, covering them both in the silk and cotton. Automatically, like they always did this, Poe got rid of the space between them and hid his face in the crook of Finn's neck.

Finally, he felt comfortable enough to speak. “What happened?”

He heard Finn swallow thickly and waited. “Thought you didn't make it in the crash,” he muttered, whispering breath over his damp hair. “We went according to plan. Didn't find Kylo Ren, but we found Phasma again. She chased us down, thought one of us was you or something, so I knew you had to be okay. I locked myself in the kitchen, thinking I could make my way to the bunker in the tunnels, try to find Ren, but they were hung up thinking I was you, and I wasn't losing them. I thought that... if they thought you were dead, it would give you a head start. Maybe even win the war.” Poe held him tighter, wanting to interrupt but not sure what he could say. The inferno of the kitchens went through his mind, and he could still feel the heat. “I put the gas on to as many stoves as I could reach and dug out a grenade. And I-” Finn paused here, licking his lips, like he was trying to choose what to say. “I ended up backing away and tossing it, hoping they wouldn't look for a body soon. Then I ran and found you.”

“You're lying.” The timing was all off. The palace was a disaster before Poe even woke from the crash.

Finn's jaw shifted. “I might have been unconscious for a while... and close to the blast. I mean, I-...” He sighed, giving up. “I decided last minute to _not_ leave them a body.” Poe stilled. “I fully intended to die there, but I- I told you that I wouldn't leave you, so I couldn't just-”

“You are so fucking stupid,” Poe muttered into his skin, curling into a ball against Finn's chest and digging his fingers in until they likely left bruises. “Don't do that again. Don't even think about doing that again-”

“I'm sorry, Poe.” A hand pulled through his hair again and a kiss met his temple. “I'm not leaving you. I'm sorry. I just wanted you to be safe. I wanted to protect you.” Poe wanted to whine and hide and never think about this. “What happened to you?”

Right. Him. If they never talked about the kitchens again, he would be okay with that. “A, uh-” He cleared his throat, trying again. “A family, some civilians, they pulled me out of the wreck and patched me up. They wanted to coddle me, so I got away from them and ran straight here. Killed Phasma, and Ben showed up with a fucking sword, and I killed him, too. And Rey and- and Luke... And the throne room. You know about the throne room.”

“Luke?” He didn't want to talk about that either. “You saw him?” Poe nodded. “What did he say? What did he tell you?”

Nothing. Nothing nothing nothing. “He wanted me to leave. We argued about it, then he vanished again. Left again.”

“What did you tell him?”

“To go to hell.”

“Good.” Finn kissed his temple again and held him tighter. “I wish you weren't there either, but I'm proud of you... I'm always proud of you, Poe.”

And there were those words again hanging in the air between them. Poe felt his throat choke around them, something like a sob escaping before trying to pull himself closer to Finn without hurting either of them. The other just continued to run fingers through his hair like it was the most natural thing between them. None of this was weird or shocking or even felt new. It felt familiar, like home. He bit his lip hard, trying to will the thought away.

“I regretted writing that letter,” Finn whispered to him, hardly audible. “I didn't want to die without saying it, but when I was actually faced with death, it felt all wrong.”

Poe took a breath, grounding himself again, but scrunched his nose in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“I asked Leia to give it to you if I didn't come back.” Even surprising himself, Poe pulled away from his safe place to look at Finn. Why death? Why were they always talking about death? “She gave it back to me when I woke up. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have written it. I couldn't help it.”

There were a million things he wanted to say, but Finn seemed to at least realize the mistake. It was touching in a cruel kind of way that he was thought about in those moments, but he hated it all the same. He couldn't imagine Leia giving him the damn thing. He rubbed his hand up and down Finn's ribs, trying to organize his thoughts, trying to keep grounded. Finn's thumb made circles on his cheek, and he suddenly hated himself for not writing a letter for Finn.

He licked his lips and looked up to his eyes again. “What does it say?”

Finn's eyes softened, and Poe could see the debate there. They didn't lose each other, so who the fuck cared? But his love took a breath, twisting around to fetch the note. “It says,” he began, moving back to face them with the unopened envelope between them. Poe didn't take it and just waited while Finn stared at it, still looking like he was debating telling him or not. “It says,” he started again, their eyes catching, before Finn sighed and pulled him close again.

Poe found that spot against his love's neck again easily, not really caring if he was told at this point or not. But Finn's free hand rubbed over his back, fingers making arches over his spine, as he softly continued. “Doubt thou the stars are fire. Doubt that the sun doth move. Doubt truth to be a liar. But never doubt I love.” A kiss found its way to his temple again, and he could feel the shuddering breath against him. “I love you so much, Poe.”

It hurt, surprisingly. But it felt amazing. He never wanted to leave this moment, no matter how much it _hurt_. And it hurt so much. _“Finn, I-”_ His voice cracked, fingers pulling against him for a grip, sobbing over his own voice. _“I-”_

“I know,” his love whispered, cradling the back of his head and letting him hide his tears. “Shhh, it's okay. I know.”

_I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you._ He stayed there, crying, until he fell asleep.

* * *

The Queen had wanted to see them as soon as they were roused, which seemed to be just like any usual day, even if her office was cloaked in darkness. The only light that came in was still just through the windows.

Finn hadn't found it odd at first when Rey said that she'd be waiting in the hall, but he was glad that Poe had already sat down when the first wave of news hit.

His Prince rubbed at his face, shaking his head. “I put that sword through him, Leia.”

“I'm just telling you what I heard,” she sighed, leaning against her old desk. The office looked banged up, but whatever cleaning crew had come through already made it look much better than it likely was. The Queen glanced briefly up to Finn who chose to stand by his Prince's side. Evidently, that had been a good choice. “There was no body where there was supposed to be.”

“Maybe-” Poe waved a hand around, eventually looking up at her. “Maybe they took his body. There were more of them. Maybe they did it to fuck with us or- or take him back wherever they hell they were or-”

“Maybe,” she agreed, though hardly sounded convincing.

Poe didn't seem to believe her either and buried his face in his hands again. If they- If his Prince could just get one scrap of good news... Finn put a comforting hand on his shoulder, not as shocked as he should have been when Poe's quickly found it and squeezed.

Leia sighed, but said nothing of it. “And those men you found. We think the other may have gotten away, but since no one got a good look at them, we don't know.”

Poe grimaced at the floor. “And the dead one?”

“They called him Maul.” They both looked up at her incredulously, before Leia continued. “He was an Imperial Knight, if you could call him that. Sworn in after the Empire fell. We thought him dead years ago.”

Finn was pretty sure he was just left very largely out of the loop, but a glance to Poe told him that he wasn't the only one. His Prince furrowed his brow, mouth hanging open. “You knew? About the Empire? Luke- I thought he was looking for sympathizers.”

“They were sympathizers,” she said, nodding, “but they like to believe they're the real thing now that they're trying to rebuild.”

“You knew about this?” He was breathless with disbelief.

“I did.”

“Why didn't you tell me?”

“I _did_ ,” the Queen sighed. “You knew as much as I did about them, how small they were, how insignificant. We underestimated them.”

“But you knew about Maul. You knew they had knights like- like _that_. Rey had a _gun_ , and he fucking knocked it out of her hand, Leia. He did a fucking flip and knocked it out of her hand from across the goddamn throne room, and you thought he wasn't _dangerous_.”

“I didn't say that,” she argued back. “I said I thought he was dead.”

Finn had enough of this back and forth, but his hand didn't leave Poe. “What do we know about the Empire now? If they tried to take Ben in as their own figure head, then they know about everything here, or they're willing to chase it even if they thought he was lying.”

She gave him a sad frown, almost apologetic. “We're learning what we can from everything left behind, but we can't find anything resembling a base of operations. For now... we don't know much.”

“Leia,” Poe groaned, face buried away again. “Where's Luke?”

When the Queen turned to him, she seemed to steel herself. “Gone.”

He looked to her, anger suddenly darting through his eyes. “Don't give me that. You know where the hell he is-”

“He's left, Poe,” she told him again. “And it was foolish to send Rey after him. That could have cost that girl her life.” His Prince deflated, and Finn was very thankful that she continued. “But I'm glad you did... He's gone, but I think we can breach contact with him now. Please, from now on, leave that to me.”

Poe nodded. Leia sighed again, clasping her hands together. “There's going to a mass funeral and memorial service in two days for the public. You'll be expected to make an appearance, but if you can't-”

“No. No, I'll-” Poe rubbed his face, and Finn tightened his grip. “I'll be there... How- How many-?”

The Queen frowned deeply. “It's meant to be a march for everyone we've lost since the siege. With our current death toll, maybe-... Maybe three thousand. Maybe more.”

Poe didn't move. For a long moment, it felt like Poe didn't even breathe. Finn squeezed his shoulder again, knowing that he wasn't with them anymore. He just kept slipping away from them constantly, but it didn't pull him back this time. His hand rubbed across his shoulders, fingers ghosting lightly at his neck. No reaction. Not thinking twice about it, Finn carefully knelt down, gently butting their foreheads together and rubbing circles through Poe's hair until, finally, his Prince took a breath and turned to face him. “Hey,” Finn greeted quietly, “stay here.”

His Prince swallowed and nodded once, so Finn placed a kiss on his forehead and allowed himself to stand again, replacing his hand back to his shoulder before looking at Leia. There was no surprise there. Only sadness as she looked down to Poe. “I'm not leaving you a choice this time,” she told him gently but firmly. “You're talking to them as often as they see fit. I'm leaving Finn in charge of that.”

Poe either acted like he didn't hear her or really hadn't. “Did they find Jess?”

“Yes,” Leia continued like nothing happened. “She's in the hospital expected to make a full recovery. I sent a few of the Guard on rotation to watch over her, so you don't have to break your neck trying to jump the gate.”

“Okay,” he sighed and stood up, Finn's hand sliding away from him. “Anything else?”

For a moment, Leia was quiet and just stood there while studying him. “Just one thing... Rey told me what you told Luke. I was wondering if you still thought about that now.”

Told him what? Finn looked between them, waiting for an answer to the unspoken question, but Poe just bowed his head low. Eventually, he licked his lips, shook his head, “Later,” and began to walk away.

Finn didn't ask. He bowed respectfully to Leia and followed his Prince out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another very long chapter, but that's just because I'm finally ready to finish this. The next chapter is going to be the LAST ONE! AHHH! I'm so happy, honestly. I'm excited to start on part two.
> 
> Thank you guys so freaking much for all the support. I hope you enjoyed this chapter for all of its nonsense. Poe's hurting. But thank you!


	29. Chapter 29

There was a chill in the air that threatened to freeze him to the bone, but the sky was clear and bright, suggesting that maybe it was the mood that made everything feel that way.

Finn had given most of his Head of the Guard and Security duties over to Rey, Iolo, Karé, and whoever else the Queen wanted to appoint for the position. It currently wasn't a one man job with the aftermath still going on, but Finn physically couldn't handle the palace's well-being and Poe's at the same time. His Prince needed him right now, and he couldn't shirk that duty for anything. But it was nice to find that when he gave orders to someone – practically anyone that wasn't a royal – they quickly obeyed him without question. Made life that much easier.

Although Finn quietly hated the times he had to leave Poe alone with a therapist, they were seldom apart for any other moment. Though Finn's paranoia had successfully been dialed up to eleven, it was Poe that had been particularly clingy. So when a therapist approached _him_ , Finn had kindly waved them off, not wanting to leave his Prince alone to wait with nothing to preoccupy him but his mind.

_His mind._ Sometimes Poe would drift away, and Finn was terrified that he may not be able to bring him back one day. But even after just the last two days, they were becoming shorter and less frequent. Which was one of the many many reasons Finn dreaded this particular day.

The night before, when he had Poe's bare back pressed tight against his chest, he dared to ask his Prince to skip this. It wasn't his place, of course, and it wasn't right to ask him of such a thing. He already knew what Poe would say, knew that he would probably get angry at such a suggestion, but Finn had asked anyway. He had to try.

“ _I had dreams about tomorrow,” his Prince had told him quietly, no agitation in his voice as he reached over to squeeze his arm, “but you'll be with me this time. I'll be okay.”_

The city was starting to look physically better at least. Debris had been cleared, buildings either cleaned up or torn down. It was a lot of work but necessary in order to seem formidable. They had won, but the bad guys had gotten away. Poe's life was still in danger, the future of the Crown still hang in the balance, and Finn's devotion to his position had yet to waver. Although he knew and trusted some people in the Guard, there were still things he preferred to handle himself. Especially right now. If there was even so much as a speck of dust trailing along in this parade with them, he would be the first to know.

He risked a glance over to his Prince, who was quietly watching the world pass by as their armored transport took them to the destination. Rey and the Queen were behind them in the next car, leaving the two of them alone with the silence. Finn reached over and grabbed his Prince's hand. Poe squeezed but didn't look away from the window. There was little use in the comfort, but Finn wouldn't be able to give him any while in front of the people. This was the only moment they had, so he gripped Poe's hand tight in his until the motorcade slowed to a crawl. They'd be getting out soon.

He was just sadly thankful that this wasn't his first funeral as bodyguard.

Suddenly, after passing through nothing but a ghost town since they had left the palace, people began to appear along the sidewalks. Hundreds, maybe thousands, of all ages and states of dress, everyone watching the motorcade and seeing nothing through the dark tinted windows. He felt Poe sit up a little straighter and began trailing his thumb along the ridges of his knuckles.

They had a conversation a night or two ago – a short one, but a conversation nonetheless – about them and whatever they had between them. Poe hadn't wanted Finn to be his bodyguard anymore, and it was a simple request given that circumstances had changed between them, but Finn couldn't help but argue the point anyway. There was too much tension in the country right now, he reminded Poe, too much loss and anger and fear. The Prince needed a bodyguard now more than ever, and Finn was the best person for this job, even with his injuries. Poe hadn't brought it up since. There would be a stronger conversation in the future, Finn knew, but it was a lot to be ready for. And besides the red tape of it all, they still held each other behind closed doors. That's what Poe would want today: his lover, not a guard. Finn had to be both.

The motorcade stopped at the mouth of a cobblestone street, people practically spilling off of the sidewalks in their best attire. He looked to his Prince for the go-ahead, knowing as well as anyone that nothing would move on without his say. Poe took a breath, squeezed his hand, and nodded.

Finn disentangled their fingers and opened the door to step out of the vehicle first. It was colder than he thought, a little wind ghosting around the street, and a light drizzle was making itself known. Finn roamed his eyes over the crowd, catching himself for doing so in a much too possessive manner, but no one was paying him any mind. He held the door open for his Prince, staying wary now that a silence had descended over everything.

Poe quietly stepped out after him, and Finn watched closing in case his Prince winced from the still very prominent wound in his side. But Poe stood easily, fluidly, so Finn shut the door behind them.

He noticed the change suddenly, how his Prince stopped and bristled not two steps out of the car. Was it already too much? Could they duck away unseen if needed? Then he noticed a shift in the crowd, watching as several people followed suit of someone else who was already on their knees with head bowed to the ground. It was customary to bow or maybe even curtsy to the royals, but this action was vastly different than the norm. Finn watched on as more and more people knelt to the ground, until only the feeble, old, wounded, and disabled were bowing as low as they could.

He'd... never seen anything like this before. Never really heard of it before except in stories. And, honestly, he didn't know how to take it. More importantly, he didn't know how Poe was taking it. Word had spread over the last few days, and they could hardly keep Poe's participation in the invasion quiet.

Finn glanced to him in concern, lost on what to do for once. For a moment, he was a little frightened that Poe would start screaming for them to stand. It was painfully clear that he wanted to say or do _something_.

The next car had already pulled forward, and Poe was still frozen in place out of shock. It occurred to Finn suddenly by the distant eyes and clenched jaw that his Prince was lost again. He stepped forward, intending to throw caution to the wind and do what he could to bring Poe back – these things were beginning to scare him – but the other glanced towards him before making contact and took a deep breath.

Poe straightened up and suddenly seemed to become a different person, someone closer to when they had first met and Finn didn't know him at all. He was the Prince again, _their_ Prince, and he began to walk down the street like he owned every stone it was made from. Finn followed at a respectful and still safe distance, hardly recognizing this man that walked through his people like a ruler or a God.

It lasted the entire trek to their designated place on the sidelines cleared out by members of the Royal Guard aside from one person. Poe lightly twitched at the sight of Jessika in a wheelchair with her hair long and flowing over her shoulders, not looking up from her bow even on their approach.

Finn had a feeling that nothing would keep her from this event, so he had a few people of the Guard escort her as the Prince's guest. It wasn't really meant to be a surprise but seeing how it turned out that way, he hoped it was a good one.

At first, Poe didn't seem to acknowledge her as he and Finn took their place right below the thick flag flying high above them. It wasn't until the Queen and Rey joined them that Poe put a hand to Jess' shoulder. She held his hand tight and looked back up to him as people began to rise.

Finn let out a held breath, the first leg of this day done with. He only hoped that the people surrounding his Prince was enough to keep him in the present during this. Or, at the very least, from finally breaking down just as he had feared since the invasion.

From that point, time seemed to slow to a crawl. Since the memorial was meant for everyone who had died due to the First Order from the day of the siege, most bodies weren't around to collect, so the beginning of the progression didn't even have caskets. Some members of the Royal Guard and members of the families walked in lines of procession, each holding a bundle of donated multi-colored carnations to represent those missing. Two hundred fifty-four. Then another procession right after the first, the only difference being the people carried white lilies and roses representing those who had already had services and were buried since the beginning. One hundred thirty-six.

Then the pallbearers began their slow walk, four to a line carrying the flag covered coffins high on their shoulders. Two thousand eight hundred forty-seven. Guiltily, Finn hardly watched the march. His eyes stayed more or less on Poe, trying to be at least a little inconspicuous about it. But Poe stared ahead and watched the caskets go by in a daze, like he wasn't really seeing them or even acknowledging his place in the world at the moment. But he wasn't lost in his mind again. His jaw was held so tight that Finn began to worry he'd break a tooth.

When they were finally getting to the end, after what felt like an eternity of staring hell in the face, both of the royals shifted. The Queen tilted her head up, standing a little straighter, and Poe just looked terribly uncomfortable.

One casket was no different than the rest except for it having its own line and being carried by members of the Guard instead of family members. Usually a tradition only extended to other members of the Guard. Poe bit his lip hard, resting a hand lightly on Jess' arm as they carried Snap by but never looked away.

The next casket, a few more paces behind the last, was covered in a golden flag depicting the Royal Seal. The Queen let out a breath like she had been holding on to it the entire time, but Finn caught Poe trying to discretely run a hand over his face. If he started crying now, he wouldn't stop.

Fuck it. Finn stepped forward and placed a hand on the small of his Prince's back. It was way too forward for the situation, way too stupid of a move, and Poe turned to him in a jolt like he'd completely forgotten he was there at all. Finn almost took his hand away, beginning to feel ridiculous for doing such a thing out here, but Poe's eyes softened before turning back to the parade and pressing his weight back against Finn's hand. A few tears fell, but he was breathing evenly and still remained with them.

A voice announced in Finn's ear that it was finally time for them to move. Jess would have to be left behind for the time being, but he didn't hesitate to press into Poe. His Prince got the message and stepped out into the end of the march, but after hardly a step they both realized that they were walking alone and glanced back.

“Your Majesty,” Rey whispered, but Leia shook her head, mouth a thin line, blinking back unspilled tears. She needed a second to put herself back together before facing the people, but the people were already here and waiting. It was Poe who stepped back and took her arm in his, somehow convincing her to willingly and easily follow along with them.

After over an hour of standing out in that wind, Finn finally began to breathe a little easier when they passed under the arch of the second largest- _the_ largest cathedral in the city. His gaze stayed on Poe as they walked inside. And though they never really made eye contact, there were moments when no one's attention was on them that Poe's hand would ghost across his own, as if to make sure he was still there.

* * *

It was dark when they finally got back to the palace, and it was miraculous that no one stopped Poe when he quickly and silently broke away from everyone. Even Finn didn't follow, likely knowing that he needed space now more than ever. He'd just said goodbye to one his best friends, the man who he could have easily called his father, and about three thousand other people who had trusted him with their lives.

A good cry would feel nice right now, he thought lazily. And it would. No one would blame him for finding a corner and doing just that. His therapists certainly seemed to think he could use it. But he didn't _want_ that. It wasn't about feeling the loss – he had been feeling it with his whole body and soul for the last several days. He _felt_ it. He felt everything. But it wasn't anger he tasted either. Yes, he wanted nothing more than to choke the life out of whoever the hell the First Order was, never mind his _Majesty_ the motherfucking King. He did want revenge, but that wasn't what he felt now either.

He walked down the halls, trying to prod at the thought. It was something that had been buried deep in his chest for a long time. Or maybe it was just something that had been trying to break free for that long. He knew when it was born, he had felt it. In the fire, with Ben, with sword in hand as he struck him down.

He still hated Luke for forcing this life onto him, but it was _his_ and that was something Poe very rarely wanted to own up to. He had been looking for a way out for so long that he never wanted to consider the other option, being too panicked and stifled by the gilded cage. But things were different, so different that he could hardly recognize a world from before. What _he_ wanted in _his_ life didn't seem as important to what other possibilities there could be, what he could do for the rest of the world. Still, it seemed like the most difficult decision he would ever make, one he thought was already made years ago.

Even with this sudden sense of selflessness and loyalty, he wasn't a man without his own needs. So this is where the line was drawn and where the _decision_ had to made.

Poe watched his own reflection in the glass for a long time, still as immaculate as he was during the memorial sans his coat. The lighting had been arranged in that particular room in such a way that it made everything shine and sparkle whether it had been polished clean or not. The diamonds, sapphires, and emeralds embedded in the purple and silver Imperial Crown from the ancient days of the Empire glittered in front of him, his own crown designated for the Heir Apparent to its left. The last time he'd worn his crown was a few years ago for a ball celebrating Leia's fiftieth birthday. She, on the other hand, wore the Imperial Crown much more often. For as long as he could remember, he referred to it as _Leia's Crown_ , occasionally wondering if any shops in the country would be willing to take the jewels if ever tried to hock them.

Now the sight of it was something completely different. Every ridiculous gem on it represented their power, _his_ power, and their reign. It was a burden, as he'd always known, but a symbol for something far greater than that. It made whoever wore it far greater than that. He used to not be able to imagine a more perfect nightmare, but now-...

He glanced down when something caught sight in his peripheral vision from the far side of the room. Maybe he was gone for longer than he thought. “I'm all right,” he sighed, looking back to his reflection, “Just thinking.”

“You think too much as it is,” Finn grumbled but didn't move. When he spoke again, his voice held less agitation and a little more concern. “They've prepared a small dinner, asked if you were available. I can have it brought to your rooms if you want.”

Poe glanced to him, noting the rigid posture and the hands held stiffly behind his back, like he was talking to a Prince instead of... whatever they were, even if his voice and knowledge betrayed the stance. Finn knew well that the only thing Poe wanted less than food was attention.

Instead of answering outright, he looked back to the crown in front of him. “I held a sword to Luke's throat,” he told him, even surprising himself with how easy the admission was, “I told him that I wasn't leaving, that this is my kingdom, that I'm going to be King. I meant it then. For some reason... I still mean it now.” He waited a moment, testing the waters to see if Finn would speak or not. This was a decision that had to be made, and either choice would leave heavy regrets. No matter what he chose, there would be times he would wish to go back and pick otherwise. He knew that. But there was one thing that could still sway him. Poe swallowed, asking a little lower, “Will you stay with me?”

They both knew what he was asking. It was a life long commitment whether their budding relationship lasted or not. And, really, it was a horrible thing to ask for after so short a time no matter what position Poe held. He was never going to command Finn to do anything, but asking this of him was too much. And yet, he was terrified of doing this without him.

Finn's posture must have given up on being too perfect at some point by the way his shoulders sank the closer he walked to Poe. Instead of really stopping, he moved behind him and wrapped Poe tight in his arms, inhaling deeply and moving his lips over his neck. He watched Finn in the reflection, saw his eyes flutter closed as he held him closer, even as his own hand ran across the arm over his chest. “I told you,” Finn reminded him quietly, “I'm not leaving.” His eyes opened to that warm brown, and he nuzzled Poe's neck as he looked at him through the glass. “You are my Prince and, if you choose to be, you'll be my King. No matter what you decide or where it takes you, I'll always be right here.”

A sudden spark of emotion struck through him, and Poe worried at his bottom lip. He turned away from the crown, looking back at Finn with hooded eyes, and said in far too low a voice to have been of any value, “I love you.”

One of them – neither knew which – closed the small gap between them. He kissed his love as deeply as he could, afraid that even this moment could be their last.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh Jesus. This monster is officially finished, and I honestly cannot believe it.
> 
> The sequel will probably be out sometime in the next two weeks or so. It'll be in the tag, on my tumblr, etc etc. Should be hard to miss if you're looking out for it. (I'm gonna make another promo and everything.)
> 
> But holy shit. I just have to say that you guys have been the absolute best readers I have ever had. There's even been some fanart produced for this thing! Like, I'm kind of in literal shock over here. You guys are amazing and left so many comments, and I just want to thank you from the very dregs of my heart. With everything I have planned for the sequel, I think it might end up being even better than this one. Darker, more at stake, but still great. That's my promise to you guys for sticking with this for as long as you have.
> 
> So just. Thank you. I love this fandom, I love this ship, I love all of you guys. Thank you thank you thank you.


	30. Fanart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This fic is definitely done! Don't freak out! This space is reserved for any fanart that I happen to find or get gifted for this fic. The artists are all incredible, and I'm grateful to every one of them.
> 
> If you find your art on here and you don't actually want it here, let me know and I'll take it down! I think I have permission from everyone, but I'm not sure.
> 
> Also, if you know of art of this fic that's not here, let me know and I'll contact the artist/add it.
> 
> Don't forget to check out part two (which is being very slowly updated) _[Doubt That the Sun Doth Move](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7036867)_.

by [fridaseyebrow](http://fridaseyebrow.tumblr.com/post/144409625560)

 

by [yuquiche](http://yuquiche.tumblr.com/post/145795956260)

 

a chapter by chapter series by [werecadet](http://buffaluff.tumblr.com/) (which I might just put in their respective chapters but they're here for now)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DID I GET EVERYTHING!??!?! Comment if I didn't, please. And send those artists some love!!!

**Author's Note:**

> Since this is apparently a thing, come follow me on tumblr @ [linatrinch](http://linatrinch.tumblr.com/).
> 
> I also made a [promo](http://linatrinch.tumblr.com/private/138965148304/tumblr_o29f93BvQd1r9rnzt) for this fic that I'm really proud of if someone hasn't seen that yet.


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